


Across Oceans of Time

by Brokensoul



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: AU, Disease, Epic Love, F/M, Jewelry Heist, PIG!, Pickpocketing, Possible trigger for child abuse, Poverty, Rating will go up, Rumple childhood, True love cannot be stopped, Visions, lots of suffering, the fair, victorian Glasgow, victorian circus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2019-10-18 23:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17590538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokensoul/pseuds/Brokensoul
Summary: He couldn’t have known what his life would become, how it would cross paths with magic, traverse continents, span time, and pass into legend.He couldn’t have known, or he would have been terrified. But on this beautiful day on a Scottish island, he was just a boy.





	1. The Island

**Author's Note:**

> Characters in Rumple’s family are given Scottish Gaelic versions of their names  
> Rab is a form of Rob for Robert. That’s Rumple  
> Mael is Malcom  
> Finola is Fiona

‘S beag ‘tha fios ail fear a bhaile’  
Cia’mar ‘tha fear na mara beo.

“If you would know the island,  
Know the sea around it.”  
Scottish Gaelic saying

The island thrust up out of the fractured sea bed, a massive table of ancient rock, birds wheeling and screeching as they dove around its sides. Its corrugated edges fell sharply to the sea. The folds of stone gathered like some great woven piece of cloth and plunged down to where the glittering black backs of the waves rode up and down. While the sides of the island were rough and painted camouflage by the droppings of the seabirds, the land itself was green and rolling. It was marred occasionally by huge broken boulders, a giant child’s toy blocks strewn across the surface.

The Hebridean islands of Scotland were an ancient land, with a long and enigmatic history. A craggy broken line of great rocky outcroppings, like the spine of a long submerged creature; it was there long before humankind and would remain long after. The island was the second in a mostly uninhabited chain of three. It sat in the middle, the other two islands curling slightly around it, like protective parents around a child. This early morning the only movement in sight was a lone boy on the ridge, pulling himself along somewhat reluctantly. Carefully following the narrow path of naked earth and rock worn through the scrubby grass, he headed toward the shore. The morning fog lingered in the heather, and rolled in gently, a misty embrace from sea to land. The sky overhead was vast, titanic. It gave him a sensation of coming untethered from the planet, an impression of expansion. Skuas flew overhead, so high above that the birds were mere suggestions of living creatures.

Rab made his way through the tumbled boulders at the edge of the shoreline, disturbing a few clownish puffins resting among the lichen covered stones, and arrived at a narrow dock. He was careful with his feet on the wood, which was slick with salt spray. The air had the unique smell of the seaside; a mixture of dry chalk, moist salt, and ripe with rotting kelp and guano. Oyster Catchers stood drying their wings on the rocks in the weedy shadows, and minnows flashed in the shallows.

Rab put his pack down on the worn dock. Unfortunately, there had been no bread or cheese to bring with him, but he’d eaten an egg and had a canteen of fresh water from the well, sweet and cold. He moved over to the boat to stow his fishing gear and paddles. The boat was wooden, wide in the center and slender at either end, a design left over from the Vikings who’d once roamed the land. Though no beauty, it was sturdy and reliable. No matter how the sea might batter it, the little boat remained steadfast.

Rab picked up his pack and slung it into the boat. Stepping surefootedly on board, he turned to untie the ropes that tethered the craft to a cleat on the dock. Hoisting the little sail, he felt the wind snatch at the cloth, fill it, and begin to pull. With his hand on the tiller he tacked into the lenghthening swells. Soon he felt the waves turn into long slow rolls, slapping against the hull, and leaving swirling eddies in the wake. He eased the boat around the edge of the island, glancing at the fog enshrouded cliffside in the distance, enjoying the wind in his shaggy brown hair.

The ocean was the great giver of life, a source of food and trade, and Rab loved it. But he could sense the cold vastness beneath the little boat and knew that many had died in these waters as well. Like God, the ocean gave, and could take just as easily.

Rab watched a bird fold its wings back and cut swiftly down into the water, resurfacing a moment later to bob on top of the swells and enjoy its meal. Rab breathed in deeply, his nerves singing, exhilarated. He would always have respect for the power of the ocean, but he had an islander’s soul deep love for it as well. The sea cleansed away all his sadness, made him sense that anything could happen. Fish were breaking through and slapping back down on the surface, but those were too small to interest him. Another bird sliced down, faster than his eyes could track, diving sleekly into the water. The sun glittered and flashed on the surface, causing him to squint. The gannets continued to wheel overhead, searching for food and hitting the water occasionally in calculated strikes. As he sailed, Rab’s mind wandered, as eleven year old boys’ minds do. He wondered how many Viking ships lay below, if skeletons there lay staring sightlessly, kelp waving through their rib cages in the green gloom. There were plenty of ghost stories about these islands. Once, he’d gone with his papa to the mainland to sell spun yarn and raw wool. After they’d collected their money, his papa had sat him outside the door of the local pub and told him sternly to stay there. Rab had sat patiently outside by the open door. He’d listened to the conversation drifting out along with laughter and the clink of crockery. What he heard had astonished him.

Stories of fae, kelpies, and magic. He’d been fascinated and somewhat frightened. But also, intrigued. Sitting outside that wretched little pub in the dust, his mind had been opened to a new world. He’d heard one of the men relate a story about meeting a dark fae, who had granted the desperate man his fondest wish, or so he thought. The man told how, after receiving his heart’s desire, he’d returned home to find his wife in tears, his infant son gone. Magic always had a price, he’d warned. And it was always too high. If you valued your sanity, you’d avoid it. Rab had thought then, with a shiver of fear, that he would like to meet a creature of magic. Though, he would never ever strike a deal with one. He was too canny for that.

He shook the wool out of his head as he brought the boat smoothly gliding into his destination, a loch overshadowed by craggy cliffsides, fairly free of noisy shorebirds and protected from the unceasing wind. Hopefully the fishing would be good and he could bring home something to make his papa smile. His papa didn’t smile much, and Rab thought his eyes looked weary, disappointed with the world. He supposed that’s what happened when a man lost the woman he’d loved beyond all reason. He knew his papa tried hard not to blame him, but suspected that he did anyway. His papa was a dour man, not given to praise or physical affection. Likewise, Rab had never known a mother’s gentle touch, heard a lullaby, or received a kiss on the cheek to fall into dreams with. Sometimes his skin seemed to ache for something he couldn’t define.

There’s been no birthdays either. It seemed wrong to celebrate on the day his mama had died. It was a dismal day every year, his papa drinking and later sobbing quietly until he fell asleep and could escape his pain for a little while.

Rab had found a drawing once while cleaning, sweeping smooth the packed earth floor near his papa’s bed. It was a sketch of a smiling dark haired beauty. Her eyes were large and soulful, like Rab’s own. Her smile quirked up crookedly on one side, just like his. He stared at the drawing for a long time, a tear tracking unnoticed down his face to drop off the end of his sharp nose. He’d thought, “so that’s what mama looked like.” Rab had carefully placed the sketch back where he’d found it. He’d never had the courage to ask his papa about it, but he thought he understood then his papa’s distant care.

Sighing, he rose up and and grasped the heavy rock he used for an anchor, dropping it over the side of the little boat to disappear quickly beneath the waves.

Rab spent a pleasant enough morning on the water, but as it became clear that he wasn’t going to hook a fish that day, he laid aside his pole. The changing direction of the waves told him that the tide was reversing and it was time to head back. Leaning over the side of the boat, Rab grunted with effort as he hauled up the now mud slimed rock. Though his arms were thin, he had a wiry strength gained from years of hard work. Placing the stone on the wooden boat bottom, he took up the tiller again and headed for the shore. Hoisting the sail once again, gliding over the rolling waves, Rab let himself enjoy the sensation of freedom.

Once back, and after tying the boat securely back to the cleat on the little dock, Rab wandered back up the path to the green field above. He sat down on the grass, plucked a stalk, and chewed as he lay back. The meadow had warmed a good deal since that morning, all the dew long since burned away. Rab closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm sunlight on his skin, all the muscles in his normally tense body relaxing. His busy fidgeting hands stilled for once. The breeze on his skin caressed him, and he felt content.

Sometime later the lowing of a sheep woke him, and he sat up, startled, his eyes wide. Snapping his head to the right he spied a small black ewe with curling horns. She’d somehow escaped the pen, and Rab knew he’d have to lead her back. When he stood approached her, however, the ewe began to trot away.

He swore as the stubborn animal refused to stop its slow but steady progress across the field. Purple heather bent forward under the sea wind, the sky overhead huge, the whole land giving a sense of roominess. A bird call sounded suddenly nearby, but it didn’t sound anything like the usual cries of kuas and kittyhawks. Rab looked toward the sound and was startled to see a pale bird, silvery white, and unlike any bird he’d seen on the island before. Its sleek plumage shone like a pearl, iridescent colors shimmering along its long back. Its elegant legs were pale too, and as he watched it jumped a little, fluttering its wings and then settling back down. Rab took a step toward the creature, curious.

The black sheep was ambling over the rise, but the boy didn’t follow. Fascinated, he trailed after the bird as it flitted from one rough outcropping to the next, the wind ruffling its bright feathers. As he stepped forward again cautiously, the bird cocked a glassy black eye at him and hopped nimbly to the next stone. Rab knew he should be gathering the wayward ewe, but like young and curious lads he just couldn’t help himself. In all his short years he’d lived on the isolated Scottish island, he’d never once seen a bird like it. Again, the creature titled its head, hopped a little away, and stared at him. It was obviously unafraid.

“So ya want me to follow ya, do ya? What are ya up to then?” Rab hesitated. The bird was acting unnaturally, and his papa had warned him often enough to beware the magical. His father had cautioned him that the stone circle on the island was dangerous, an ancient gathering place for those who practiced magic and worshipped the old gods. Though long gone, their evil lingered. Rab wondered briefly if he should return to the job of capturing the wandering ewe.

Just then the bird let out a musical trill. It flew a short distance away and landed once more. Helpless to resist the boy followed. Eventually he realized his fears might be right. The bird had led him to the area of the standing stones. The never ending wind swept through the prehistoric monument with a mournful howl and the tiny hairs on Rab’s arms stood up. The stones loomed overhead, oppressive and ominous.

Just move, Rab told his frozen legs, they’re only old rocks. Pulling his threadbare jacket tighter around his thin frame, he stepped bravely into the circle. The shadows from the monolith threw the area into darkness, lowering the temperature by several degrees. Rab shivered. Looking up around himself at the towering stones he cowered. The narrow spaces between the rocks had the effect of funneling and strengthening the sea breeze so that it flung up grit that bit at his skin like midges. The bird was nowhere to be seen. Rab decided he’d had more than enough of the place and turned to leave.

He’d just decided to go after the sheep he was supposed to be collecting when he noticed a faint footpath leading from the stones to the cliff’s edge. Rab followed the path over and looked down. Far below, the grey ocean roiled and boomed along the rocky dropoff, sending plumes of white and foamy spray high into the chilly air. A steep path wound down the cliff side to disappear far, far below.

Wary, Rab climbed down onto the bare and pebbled path. He began to judiciously make his way downward, the errant sheep forgotten once more in favor of this new adventure. The small pebbles rolling underfoot made the going treacherous and the salt water left the stone path slippery. He sat down and pulled off his worn leather boots, tying the laces together and slipping the cords around his skinny neck to let the boots dangle and thump against his his breastbone as he picked his way down the cliff side. Below him the sea churned and rumbled, a hollow thunder echoing up each time the tide rolled in and hit the cliff side. He slipped on a wet stone, grabbing at a sparse clump of rough sea grass to slow his slide, and for a sick moment pictured his body at the bottom at the bottom of the drop off, broken and lifeless. Sucking in a breath, he told himself to toughen up. His papa always said, No Scot ever sat for a Sassenach, meaning, be brave and never give up. Thrusting out his meager chest the boy continued his way down. After what seemed like forever, his calves beginning to cramp with the strain of leaning backward to keep his balance on the slope, the trail began to even out. It hugged the cliff side, there being no beach or flat space. However, he could tell by the ocean’s echoing roar that it must be rolling into one of the sea caves carved into the side of the rugged cliffs.

Sure enough, as he carefully inched along the cliff face, he came to see that the water and the path alongside entered a deep cavern worn into the solid rock over the centuries. Rab hesitated, not having to be told that his papa would not like him being here. He’d never explored this part of the island before. He could clearly hear his papa’s voice in his head, forbidding him to enter the mysterious cavern. Rab rubbed his fingers together anxiously, trying to decide what to do. Generally, he was a good boy, given to obeying his papa’s word. He needed to go and find that ewe, she was possibly carrying a young one, and the small farm couldn’t afford the loss of any livestock; the last winter had been harsh.

He peered cautiously into the sea cave. Luckily it was low tide, and the entrance was clear. He’d just take a quick peek to satisfy his curiosity and then he would leave the cave and head home. His papa need never know. Nodding to himself and checking that his boots’ laces were still secure, he worked his way across the wet stones. The seaweed curled off of them to wave in the shallow green water. The hollow cave caused the slapping of his bare feet on the rock to sound louder than it should. Nervous, he looked down, carefully watching where he set his feet so as not to slip. The cave was cold and smelled of damp and rotten things. The steady sound of dripping water came from somewhere ahead, and the light that made it inside was muted and wavering. He noticed faint drawings on the cavern walls, faded over countless years, and whether they’d been drawn by Vikings or Picts, he couldn’t say.

“Well,” said a mellifluous voice,” didn’t it take you long enough?”

Rab froze, panic creeping over him. His voice seemed to have turned to ice as well, as he.could not make a sound.

The bell like voice chimed at him again, “Come forward child, I cannot talk with you if you won’t see me. Come Rab, you’ve nothing to fear, I promise you.”

“How do you know my name?” Rab blurted. “Who are you?”

He made his way slowly forward, wary. As he drew closer he could see her in the watery light. Perched on a mossy stone was a female with a soft smile. Her long hair was tangled and pale. Her white gown was shimmering with pearls, and her skin was so pallid as to be almost ghostly. It was her strange eyes though, that let him know right away that he was face to face with something more than natural. By the opaque whiteness of her eyes it was obvious that she was blind. There was no way she should have been able to reach this remote sea cave on her own, and Rab shuddered with fear.

“I know many things, young Rab. You must be seeking my knowledge as you followed me here. Only those desperate to uncover their fate summon me.”

Rab’s voice quivered and his hands writhed against one another. “ I didn’t follow you and I didn’t summon you.”

“Oh, you did indeed.” She chuckled and her teeth flashed sharp. “I know your past and your future as well. I see everything that will be, and I will tell you for a small price.”

Rab caught his breath. “Demon! My papa has warned me of your kind. No, no, I’ll have nothing to do with it.” He held up a hand in negation, shaking his head and backing away. 

“And well he might warn you, considering what happened to your mother.”

Rab stopped.

She spoke again. “Do you not want to know of your travels far from here? Your adventures?”

Again Rab hesitated. “You lie. I’m never going to leave this island, my papa says so.”

“Mael is mistaken, for you will leave, and you will have a remarkable quest. Give me a gift and I will tell you.”

Still the boy was quiet. According to to tales of seers, their gifts always came with a price that you wouldn’t like. Finally he said,” I have nothing to trade. I am the son of a poor sheepherder.” Though she must know this.

Indeed she giggled, an oddly girlish sound. “I’m aware. Who do you think released the ewe?” The blind seer pointed unerringly to the woven cord he wore round his neck, on which was threaded a single polished bead of stone. “That’ll do.”

“No,” said Rab immediately. “My mama made this for me before I was born. It is all I have of her.”

“Your mother Finola was an exceptional woman, and she knew you would be special, wee one. Give it to me, and I promise you will have it back someday. On that day you will have become a wealthy man, and wise in the ways of men. Let me tell you of the wonders which lay ahead for you.”

Rab shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, his fingers rubbing restlessly. Was it really possible? His hand reached up to caress the cord around his neck. He couldn’t imagine why she would want it, the old wool and stone necklace worthless, surely, to anyone but him.

“Do we have a deal?” Her voice was soft and so compelling.

He had to know. He had to. Slowly, and with a heaviness in his heart, Rab removed the cord and handed it to the pallid creature.

“Deal,” he whispered, shuddering.

Trudging home later, the lost sheep found, he kept the beast in front of him with use of a long wooden stick. The boy brooded over the complicated tale the witch had narrated. It was a load of pish, Rab reckoned, the story she had told impossible. A tale of huge cities, processionals, queens and ocean travel. But the part he really rejected was when she told him he’d be abandoned by his own father, and in turn lose his own son. He knew he would never do something that awful. His mother’s death had left a gaping hole in his heart, and he could never imagine doing anything like it to anyone else. He vowed that he never would. He also had an uncomfortable feeling that the witch knew a lot more than she was telling. Anyway, he shrugged, the whole conversation was nothing but a lie, and he had lost the only thing he had of his mama for nothing. He never should have trusted a magic user. Dejected, he tried to hurry the ewe along, eager to get home as the sun was setting quickly, and sending long jagged shadows across the land.

Rab squared his narrow shoulders as he approached home. The seabirds had at last gone quiet, back to roost on their guano covered rocky ledges. The sky had changed to a lowering deep purple, shading by increments to a violent red at the horizon. The gnarled branchesof the scrubby trees were silhouetted against the fading light, resembling the crooked fingers of a crone’s hand.

At last Rab entered the farmyard and opened the wooden gate, making sure the sheep got safely into her pen. If they were lucky, not long from now she would birth a healthy lamb. The herds’ wool was getting long, he noticed. Soon the work of shearing would begin. He ran his hands through the dirty wool of the ewe affectionately, and she butted his thigh softly with her black horned head.

“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” The boy sighed. He approached the cottage warily. Above him, chickens grumbled and clucked on the roof, settling into the thatch for the night. He looked up to see smoke easing out through the thatch from the hearth inside, curling and then shredding into vaporous rags as it blew away into the twilit sky.

His papa was going to be upset that he’d been gone so long, with no fish even to present as an excuse. Rab felt a guilty pinch on his soul and a hungry one in his belly. He hadn’t eaten since a boiled egg at breakfast. No light seeped out through the covered windows of the small building, but Rab knew his papa was in there. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside.

Rab’s papa, a short and stocky man with shaggy graying hair and beard, sat on a battered chair near the open hearth, his pipe stem clenched between crooked yellowing teeth. The man said nothing, taking a deep drag from his pipe as he considered his tardy son. His face was impassive, weathered and worn as the island itself, his eyes cold and dark as the night sea. Tipping his face toward the wooden timbers above, the man leaned back, his weight causing the wooden chair to creak. The sound seemed overly loud in contrast with the soft crackling and popping of the fire as a log shifted. Slowly the brooding man blew out a cloud fragrant smoke and sighed.

“So,” drawled Mael, “ Ye’ve finally decided to drag your carcass home.” He took another slow drag on the pipe without moving his large hands from the table, his hooded eyes narrowing dangerously. “And I see as well that you bring no wood, no fish, nor nothing. I wonder just where ye’ve been so long that ye’ve missed your supper.” Rab glanced at the wooden table, saw that any food that might have been there was now long gone. His stomach cramped in disappointment, but he knew better than to protest. “I wonder,” repeated Mael softly, “where ye’ve been all day while I’ve been doing all the work, the fishing, the cooking, hmm?” The old man tamped out his pipe and stood up. “Well, boy?” Rab began to tremble, his scrawny body shaking, though he fought to control it. “One of the ewes got loose papa, and I had to chase her down. I got her back though.” He clasped his hands together tightly to try to stop their nervous fidgeting. 

“And that took you all day? Well, did it?” Mael’s face was rapidly flushing red from rage. “Don’t you dare lie to me boy! You better not have been anywhere you shouldn’t have!” Mael began removing his leather belt, flexible with age and thick.

Rab unconsciously took a step back, his heart thumping dully and a bead of sweat sliding down the back his neck.

Mael hissed at him. “Come here. Now.”

Rab hesitated. That was a mistake. Mael lunged forward and snatched him by the neck of his threadbare shirt, yanking the boy violently and causing him to fall awkwardly to the floor. Rab cried out in shock as the heavy leather strap struck his legs. Mael raised the belt again, bringing it whistling down, leaving a stripe of fire burning across his thigh. Again and again his father struck him, Rab’s thin pants doing little to protect him. When the belt began to land repeatedly on the same bruised areas, the agony became overwhelming and Rab began to cry. That made Mael even more furious, and the next blow landed with all the solid man’s strength behind it. Rab screamed, flinging up his hands to try to protect his face. But the belt came down relentlessly, opening bloody gashes on the tender skin of his arms. Whimpering, Rab tried desperately to crawl under the table, but couldn’t escape the searing torture. Curling into a ball, he sobbed in misery and humiliation, and prayed for the beating to end.

That night, as his father snored softly in the rough wooden bed, Rab lay awake on his pallet of straw and sighed. He was hungry, and every time he shifted pain flared. At least he wasn’t freezing. The double stone walls of the tiny cottage provided adequate protection from the chill wind howling outside. The floor was packed earth, and with his nest of woolen blankets atop the straw he was reasonably warm. Beyond the central hearth a low stone partition muffled the sounds of shifting livestock slumbering on the other side.

Rab didn’t feel sorry for himself. His father was a hard man, but fair, and Rab loved him. He’d brought the punishment on himself, after all, and it would have been much worse if his papa had known just how much Rab had disobeyed him. His papa hated anything to do with magic, and despised the stone circle in particular. Rab knew he should never have entered the sea cave, and certainly never have spoken with the witch. Still, the boy mused over the seer’s words. Was any of her far fetched story really possible? Would he really someday leave this island, his home, and see the world? Would he be wealthy, powerful, have a family of his own? He shook his head at his own foolishness and at last drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

But all that night he dreamed of teeming cities, faraway landscapes, of haughty queens and lonely ghosts.


	2. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple gets his first glimpse of Belle. Rumple and his papa’s little world comes apart.

“What the tide brings, the wind takes away.”  
Old Gaelic Scottish saying

The days that followed sheep shearing that spring were mainly ones of routine. Rab and his papa would wake in the chilly predawn and Rab would build up the fire to heat water for their tea. After breakfast he would feed the chickens and collect the eggs while Mael tended the herd. On the occasional days it didn’t rain, his papa worked the crops and mended fences. Rab’s job on those days would be to fish or hunt, and to collect firewood if he could. The wood would be stored to dry for winter to supplement their stores of peat. The smoky peat fires left the little interior of the cottage blackened all along the low ceiling and left it smelling of earth and soot. On the days when it was warm and sunny, rare though they were, Rab would bathe in the ocean or clear river. Life was simple and they were content.

On this day he was headed down to a sandy bank near the shore. Because it was Spring, hares were abundant near the burrows there, or so he hoped. Rab followed a path through a small coastal oak forest. The trees were showing signs of new life, bright green leaves rustling in the shore breeze. A symphony of birdsong floated to him through the air. Everything smelled green and ferny after the abundant spring rains. 

Reaching the bank of the hare’s burrows, Rab barked a laugh at a comical sight. Having had the burrows all to themselves throughout the winter months, the hares were now quite annoyed to be invaded by flocks of noisy fat puffins. The busy birds were snatching up tufts of dry sea grass in their colorful beaks and waddling with it to the convenient burrows. There they would make their cozy nests, lay their eggs, and raise their young, and to hell with the hares. 

Rab sat down on the grass to observe. He wanted to see where would be the best places to lay his snares. From his trouser pocket he pulled a piece of wood he’d picked up in the forest and a small sharp knife and began to carve the bark away from the branch. Thick enough to be strong, thin enough to be flexible, Rab intended to use it as an anchor for his snare.

A healthy sleek-furred doe threw herself to the ground, rubbing her long body against the grass. She was scent marking, hoping to attract a suitable mate. Soon enough, several large bucks approached her hopefully. The doe took off at a loping run, flashing her tail. The bucks would have to prove themselves through strength and speed, and they chased her with determination, competing for the right to mate. A smaller buck, not as fast as the others, couldn’t compete. The little hare sat on a rock and observed. Eventually the doe halted behind a boulder and began grooming herself. The big males ran in circles, having lost her scent. Rab saw the little buck hop nonchalantly from his perch and approach the female, victorious. Seemed strategy beat brawn in aquiring the prize. 

Rab grinned. Finished with his chunk of wood, he pulled a piece of wire from his pack and attached it to the stake he’d made. Picking up a stone to use as a hammer, he drove the stake into the ground near a burrow and lay out the snare. Two more followed soon after, and now all he had to do was wait.

The midges were soon driving him crazy, great vibrating clouds of them flying about his head, biting him and threatening to get up his nose. Rab picked up his pack and ambled down to the beach, hoping the breeze would drive off the irritating insects. He clambered over some barnacle encrusted rocks, carefully so as not to slice open a hand or foot, and glanced down into the tide pools underfoot. In the shallow pools anemones waved their tentacles, swaying in the gentle currents. They looked to Rab like flowers from some faraway planet. A starfish gripped tightly to a rock in one of the pools, one arm short where it had been bitten off and was slowly growing back. 

Maybe tomorrow he would bring a couple of nets and crab traps down here and try his luck. Rab skipped a couple of stones over the shimmering surface of the shallows. It had been a couple of months since the seer gave him her strange predictions, and as the weeks went by, Rab wondered if he’d simply dreamed the incident while napping in the sun. He fingered the empty place at his throat irritably. It must’ve happened, he would never have lost his mama’s necklace. Rab turned his head toward the end of the island where the ancient monument stood. What would he find if he returned there? Would the witch be there again, or would the cavern remain empty?

He stood up and checked out the sun’s position, squinting and shading his eyes with a hand. The sun was still well over the horizon. He’d have plenty of time to go look and be back in time to check his snares before dark. His hands fluttered at his sides, useless in his indecision. His eyes darted around as fear and curiosity warred within his heart. Shuddering slightly, brows drawn together and mouth set, Rab began walking to the forbidden place.

Slapping at the midges near his eyes, he refused to think about what would happen to him if his papa found out. Sooner than he wished, Rab arrived at the standing stones. His eyes followed the edge of one huge stone up and up to its pinnacle so far above. No birds stood on it or wheeled about its top. It troubled Rab in a way he couldn’t grasp. There were always birds everywhere on the island, the noise and movement of them ceaseless. Gooseflesh ran up his skinny arms and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up. Trembling, but throwing back his shoulders, Rab stepped into the onyx gloom beneath the stones. Immediately he staggered, his skin erupting into chills. The land skewed sideways, sliding beneath him. His eyes rolled back in his head, white’s showing, and he fell heavily to the ground, unmoving.

***************************************

Rab was in a strange room. The air was cold and smelled bad. People in strange clothes sat in groups, murmuring. There were frightening sounds, loud ringing and odd mechanical blares. A magic frame on the wall displayed moving images. The people surrounding him ignored all this, while others rushed through the room, all serious faces and jangling keys. The walls of the unfamiliar room were very white and the space was unnaturally bright. A woman with a piece of cloth over her lower face strode by, pushing a man in a strange wheeled chair.

Rab heard a voice, seemingly coming from the air, say something he didn’t understand. “Code Blue to FICU, Brunswick Tower, Room 1547. Code Blue to FICU, Room 1547.”

Terrified, Rab shook violently, his hand flying up in alarm, fingers working at the air.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” A soft voice, soothing. He looked over to see a pretty brunette, wearing boots and a large colorful scarf. She had an open book clutched in her hands.

“What?” Rab stammered, confused.

She smiled sweetly. “I mean, it’s hard when someone you care about is ill.” Her eyes, he noticed, were ocean blue, and kind. She leaned forward, reaching out a hand toward him...

************************

Rab sat up on the damp grass in the stone circle, nauseous from the powerful vision. He retched miserably onto the ground. Then, trying shakily to stand, he leaned forward and and was sick again. Eventually he was able to stagger out of the circle, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, a few tears running down his pale face. 

When Rab got home that evening, he had two large rabbits to hand to Mael, who was smiling for once. His papa didn’t notice his pallor or his guilty silence.

“Sheep shearing tomorrow, boy.” Mael took the rabbits from from Rab and threw them down on the scarred table, grabbing a knife. “Going to be a good one this year. Gonna get some good money for it in town.” His papa whistled as he skinned and butchered the hares. Rab knew his father was looking forward to the conversation and whisky he would have at the pub when business was finished.

The next day When Rab awoke, his papa was already up, sharpening the shears. Mael was in a good mood, “Breakfast is on the table, boy! Get a move on!”

Rab got up quickly, throwing on his pants and taking a seat at the table. He saw he had an egg and thick buttered bread with cheese this morning, and his stomach growled. He watched his father work the tools as he ate, washing down the food with a glass of cold milk. Mael worked quickly, years of practice stored in his gnarled hands. The shears he sharpened were forged of one metal piece, made to be squeezed shut and spring open again on their own. A curling hinge made up one end, the cutting edges on the other. They were designed to leave a short coat of wool on the sheep, a necessity in such a frigid climate. 

Pulling on his boots, Rab went out to the well and drew up the bucket with a grunt. Taking the bucket off the hook, he swirled a chunk of soap around in the near freezing water. The soapy water would be used to clean the lanolin buildup from the tools between shearings. 

“Rab, ‘mon!” Mael gripped the sheep by the horns and flung it down and Rab knelt to help calm the animal. His father quickly worked through the thick wool, the sheep bleating and kicking. Rab watched his papa finish the belly and and continue until he had the wool off in a perfect fleece. Now Rab grabbed the fleece and laid it to dry on the rocks in the wind and sun. 

They worked together silently and efficiently. Rab had to know something, he thought now that his papa was content would be the best time to ask, so he drew a deep breath and said quickly, “When you go to the mainland to sell the fleeces, do you think I might go with you?” 

Mael didn’t say anything for a long moment. Rab held his breath. He so wanted to go again, to see the people and experience the excitement of the village. 

“Aye, ah reckon ya might. Work hard the day and help me make all ready, an I’ll take ya with me this time.Time ya ken the business end ‘o things.” 

Rab couldn’t help the crooked grin he wore. This was going to be a treat! He shifted nervously but plunged ahead with his question. “Papa, last time I was there, I heard some men talking about magic.” 

“You shouldnae listen to such talk, boy, leads to nothing but misery, heartache, and loss.” 

Mael looked so lost then that Rab didn’t ask any more, and they finished the work by the cries of the seabirds. 

Rab decided that afternoon to take his net down to the seaside to cast for baitfish. It was too hard to settle down with the trip to the mainland beckoning, he needed something to do. He’d walk through the little oak wood on the way. Last fall he found an owl family nesting in the heather, the female sitting on the eggs and her mate bringing her food. Rab wanted to see how the owlets were faring after such a rainy spring. Tossing the net over his shoulder he sauntered slowly up the path and entered the cool gloom of the forest. It was a rare clear day and sunlight filtered through the gnarled trees to dapple the undergrowth and layer of wet fallen leaves below. Mushrooms bloomed and split in abundance and the ground shook and trembled with the movement of tiny insect armies. Rab inhaled the rich loamy scent of the forest. Here was the spot where he’d seen the owls. Now there were only two dead owlets, apparently starved. The parents had abandoned the chicks and left for an area that could provide more food. It was hard to hunt when the rain came down nonstop and drove all the prey underground. Rab knelt down and peered at the dead chicks. The wind picked up and sent chills dancing across Rab’s exposed neck. He sighed and stood up, might as well get on with the fishing. 

The sun wasn’t yet up when Rab awoke to the sounds of his papa scraping eggs out of the cast iron pan onto their plates. Market day! Yes! He rushed to the table and started eating as quickly as he could. Then, done with that, he hurried to dress. Which of his three shirts would look best for the village? 

“Mon, boy, beauty won’t boil the pot.” Mael went outside to tie up the fleeces, and quickly pulling on a shirt, Rab followed. He hefted a pile of tied wool over a shoulder and followed his papa down to the boat to load up. By the time they were done, the sun was up and they were both sweaty. 

“You ready?” Mael actually grinned at him, ruffling his hair. Rab flushed with pleasure at the rare show of affection. Both climbed aboard and headed for the mainland. Once far out in the channel, his father fighting the currents and the salt spray wetting his hair, Rab turned his head back. He needed to look back at the island. There it lay. Locked between the sea, sky, and land. The great rocky outcrop relaxed into the sun like a somnolent animal stretching in contentment. Why did he feel it would never look quite the same to him again? It would always be the same. A fortress of stability; impassive, solid, eternal.

Mael went to the tavern after the sale, of course. Might as well have a look around. Now that he was older his papa didn’t insist that he sit outside the pub door and wait. As long as he was back in a few hours his time was all his. He even had a few coins in his pocket that Mael had given him from the sale. He could spend it however he wanted, a rare freedom. What to do first? Where to go? Rab wandered into the local market, a collection of stalls and tables that seemed to be selling a bit of everything. He passed a stall that had plucked chickens hanging from its corners and beams. His mouth watered at the delicious fragrance of roasting meat. His fingers rubbed over the coins in his pocket, but he didn’t stop. Better to have an overview of everything before he made his choice. The next couple of tables displayed wool woven into various tartan patterns. Still farther down an old crone seated on a stool waved a bundle of herbs around, calling to passers by to try her medicines.

Rab swerved to avoid a burly man leading a donkey on a rope and then almost collided with a barefoot boy. He watched the boy bump into another visitor, and then apologize to the farmer while at the same time deftly inserting a hand into the man’s leather bag and removing coins. Seeing Rab looking at him, the dirty urchin grinned at him and disappeared into the crowd.

Oh! Rab stuck his hand down into his pocket and felt around to make sure all his coins were still there. He sighed in relief. Might be best to make a quick purchase and then have something to eat.

“Over here, boy!” Rab spun to see a man with wild dark hair and a long beard. “Ye’re Mael’s boy, aren’t ya? From over the island?”

“Yes,” Rab hesitated. He was a careful boy by nature and he didn’t know this man. He preferred to think of his hesitation as cautioun rather than cowardice.

“ ‘S alright, young Rab. I’m an old friend of your papa. Known Mael most of my life. ‘Mon, sit down and have a wee drink. “

Rab entered the man’s stall and took a seat on a wooden stool. The man smiled at him, the corners of his merry eyes crinkling.

“I imagine Mael’s over to the pub for a bit. Well, I’ve no ale here, but I do have some fresh cold milk.”

Rab looked around the cluttered stall curiously while his new acquaintance dipped some milk from a bucket into a couple of thick pottery mugs. The merchandise on display seemed to be mainly items of felted wool, blankets, scarves and the like.

“How do you know my papa?”

“Your papa and I traveled together quite a bit way back when.” The man settled in comfortably and ignored the people walking around his stall, fingering the wool. “Knew your father since I first entered manhood. Knew your mama, too.”

“My mama? You knew her?” Now was his chance to find out something about his mother! His thoughts were jumbled, he couldn’t decide what to ask first. There was just so much he wanted to know, it overwhelmed him, and Rab found he couldn’t speak.

“My name’s Liam, by the way.” The man leaned forward and shook Rab’s hand as if they were equals. Settling back again, he set his mug down and mused, “Your mama was a unique woman, Rab. Mael and I met her on our travels very far from here. Down south from where we are now there is a harbor, with huge ships that can take a man willing to pay for passage to almost anywhere on the earth he wants to go. Mael and I were young and wild back then.” Liam shook his head, smiling gently in remembrance. Rab couldn’t imagine his dour and staid father ever having been “young and wild”. 

“Where did you go?”

Liam chuckled, his gaze lost in the past, in a faraway place. “Where didn’t we go?” The old man rubbed his chin and thought. “We saw so many strange and outlandish things. Places and temples and people you wouldn’t believe. Temples built high on mountainsides that you had to cross narrow swinging bridges made of rope to get to. Black skinned people who didn’t wear clothes but had gold around their necks and in their ears.”

Rab tried but failed to imagine such things. It must have been wonderful and frightening. 

“But all that was nothing to the day Mael met Finola. A vision she was, the most beautiful woman either of us had ever seen, at any rate, and we’d seen a fair few by then.” Liam grinned wickedly, then quickly sobered. “She was crying when we saw her. Turned out she was lost, had run away from her aunt, a miserable creature by the sound of it. Mael fell for the poor lass immediately. With his protective nature he had no chance against a lovely lost thing like her. He took her back with him to Scotland. Well, there they wed and were very happy for many good years.” The stall owner’s face closed in and he looked troubled. “If only they’d left the city sooner, gone on to that island.”

When it seemed the man would say no more, Rab couldn’t keep himself from asking, “Why, what happened? Did something happen to my mama?”

“Well,” Liam got up and paced around, agitated. “More like some one than some thing. A woman in the city took a fancy to your papa. Mind you Mael cut a fine figure back then, like enough to attract any young lassie’s eye. This particular lass was more hard headed than most. Just wouldnae take no for an answer. Your mama handled it well as she could and she never doubted for a second that Mael had eyes only for her, and that was sure true enough. Always gracious, was Finola. Anyway, this stubborn lass took to following Finola around, trying to frighten her. She threatened your mama any way she could, started spreading unkind and untrue gossip about her. She was relentless. Showed up at the tavern every damn time Mael tried to stop for a wee dram and a chat. The daft female made their lives a complete hell. Finola got to where she couldn’t take it anymore, of course, she couldn’t sleep and was always sad. Your mama was too kind to confront the woman and when Mael tried it only encouraged the bampot. Mael would have done anything for your mother. He sold everything he owned, gave up his good job, all his mates, and bought your farm on your island. He took Finola there to keep her safe.”

Rab was stunned. His father never told him any of this. No wonder his papa always seemed so sad, despite his best efforts to protect her, he’d still lost the woman he loved. If a man couldn’t protect his own, he must not feel like a man at all. Rab swore to himself that he would always protect what was his.

“That’s all I know, lad. Mael and I were never as close after that, and after your mama’s death, he kept to himself and his grief.”

Rab had never really thought much about his papa’s past life. It was strange to think there was a whole other life behind the man he thought he knew so well. A whole other person with a separate existence that didn’t include Rab. It was an uncomfortable revelation.

“Just you remember, Rab. Mael may seem a hard man at times, but he has love in his heart. There’s always more to people than we see on the surface. Especially the broken ones.”

Standing up once more, Liam walked to the table in the back part of the stall. He picked up a felted scarf, soft and brown, and fashioned into long spikes on the sides. “I want you to have this. It will keep you warm, but more importantly it will remind you of what I’ve said. It looks frightening, but it is comforting. All is not always as it seems.”

Rab took the scarf gratefully and threw it about his narrow shoulders.

“Thank you. And thank you for telling me about my mother.”

 

Rab was glad to wrap the cozy scarf tightly about his neck on the sail back to the island. A stiff wind was blowing, ushering in angry looking thunderheads. There would be a bad storm tonight. Already thunder rolled in, booming and echoing off the cliffs. The swells beneath the wooden boat were quickly becoming violent, forcing Mael to use all his strength to control the rudder. Rab was relieved when they were finally able to tie up to the dock at home. He gathered the supplies they’d bought in the village while Mael hurried ahead to check on the herd.

Rab lugged the food and a bottle of spirits along in his canvas pack. The sky looked about to open up any second and he hurried to get to the house before it did. As Rab crested the hill, a huge bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating his father standing beside the sheep pen. A scream tore through the air at the same time the thunder crashed again. It sounded as if the entire island was in agony. Rab dropped everything and ran to his papa.

 

On his pallet Rab listened to the storm beat down overhead on the thatch. Thunder and lightning alternated continuously. He could see Mael silhouetted against the light of the fire. His father’s face was empty in the light of the flames, he clutched a bottle of spirits in one hand.

It was a herder’s biggest fear, every single sheep dead. Not a single one spared. Mael believed it to be the work of dark magic. They had nothing now, the herd their sole means of sustenance. They depended on it for food, for milk, for clothing and income. Without it they were lost. Rab’s stomach twisted and churned sickly. What if this was his fault? What if his visit to the stone circle and his visions had caused this? His father had warned him time and again. He must have brought some dark magic back with him. His hands writhed against each other in anxiety. He should never have gone back. He would never have anything to do with magic again. Never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve never seen a Hebridean sheep google them. Heavy metal sheep. Four or more horns.  
> The deaths were not Rumple’s fault, but he doesn’t know that, and he has a powerful enemy from before he was born, who has been plotting against his family for years...  
> Malcolm and Fiona were True Love, and Fiona loved Rumple. Rumple’s necklace was important. Malcolm has good reasons to hate magic.
> 
> Next, Rab’s life changes forever, and his path is set. His destiny is a terrifying and difficult one. Poor baby.


	3. The City

Chap 3  
“When I free my final breath,  
Lay me down on gentle earth,  
Where the dove shaded holy garth,  
And rivers run to meet the firth.  
Eilean Mor Sgiathach”  
Winged Skye by Donald Smith, Scottish poet

 

Rab ran through the wynd , shouts and whoops of laughter following behind. He nearly tripped over an upended ashcan and swore. If the gang caught him, he was a goner. Luckily, he was small and fast. And cunning. He turned the can upside down, clambered atop and reached for the ledge overhead. He got a good grip, kicked the can aside and pulled himself up. For a heartstopping minute he couldn’t get his legs up and he thought he might cry. He didn’t need another beating, he still had bruises from the last one. Rab heaved in a breath and swung his legs hard. He scrambled onto the narrow ledge, lay down, and tried to quiet his panicked breath.

“Where’d he go?”

“How the hell should I know? Keep goin’, the wee fucker can’t be far.”

Rab eased his head over the side and saw the young thugs race away down the dirty wynd. He’d climb down and find another way home. The city was a maze of stone, a filthy and bleak labyrinth. After five years in the Gorbals, Rab knew all the passages and lanes. He especially knew how to hide. Hiding was a necessary skill when you were small and scrawny and there were people everywhere who wanted to hurt you. Especially those damn Barbershop Boys.

Rab slipped warily off the ledge, dropped to the cobblestone street, and headed back the way he’d come. A grimy stone drain ran down the center of the wynd, carrying filth and foul water, and he was mindful not to step in it. On either side the buildings, black with soot, loomed overhead and blocked out all but a strip of the gloomy sky. Laundry hung limply on lines strung between windows overhead. He passed a woman sitting in a doorway stoop, holding a listless and starving child. 

Here in Glasgow’s great slums, the tenement houses created a warren of the closes, alleys, and tunnels. It was never quiet. There were always people arguing, babies crying, children shouting. He never heard the sounds of seabirds anymore, unless it was down by the Clyde. Even there the noise of the ports overwhelmed the sound. He missed the bird calls maybe more than anything else about the island he’d left behind.

Rab walked past some children washing clothes in a tub. The two kept scrubbing the cloth on the washboard, not bothered to acknowledge him. Rab reached Close number thirty-seven, which stood behind the High Street, and climbed the steps to where he and Mael shared a room with several others. It was Saturday, so he knew his papa would be off in the shabeens, drinking til it was late. Those illegal drinking dens didn’t care how old you were, but Rab had no desire to mix with thieves and prostitutes, and stayed away. When he entered the room he saw two women busy at the cookfire, while half naked dirty faced children sat on the floor and played with stones and scraps of trash.

“Rab.” The woman he called Nana smiled at him. “Ye’re just in time for some potatoes.” She ladled a few boiled vegetables into a bowl and set it on the table, steaming.

“Thank you, Nana.” The two spinsters had more or less adopted Rab as their own, and did their best to make sure he didn’t starve. Ra blew on the hot food before taking a bite. He saw a couple of men sleeping in the “hole in the wall” beds, narrow beds recessed into the walls to save room in the crowded quarters. In the evening someone would have to sleep on the very table Rab was eating from, and Rab himself would curl up on a sodden cushion on the floor and use his scarf for cover. Several families shared the room, about twenty people in all. There was no source of running water save for the communal washroom at the end of the hall. It was difficult to stay clean, and many didn’t bother. Rab had no place to keep his meager possessions and no chance of any privacy. Lines of laundry hung overhead, the wallpaper was peeling down in places, mildewed, and the windows were broken, letting in the coal poisoned air. Rab could hardly blame Mael for leaving his son behind to spend all his free time in the pubs.

Since the new labor laws were passed, Mael went to the weaving factory alone. Rab didn’t miss it. The factory was loud and dangerous, the work tedious. He’d seen children his age badly injured by accidents. Factory hours were long, hot, and brutal. Now he spent his days dodging gangs in the alleyways, avoiding angry workers rioting, searching for scraps to eat, and playing with other children. 

Sometimes he and his mates would go hide behind chairs at Zebra’s in Gallowgate to watch the boxing matches or the cock fights. They spent a fair few minutes running from the police after snatching food from vendors in the Saltmarket. Rab was lucky to have his shoes, most children had to run on the cobbles barefoot. Evenings his papa staggered home drunk, muttering under his breath, seemingly oblivious to his son. One night Mael sat down next to Rab on the floor. Rab held his breath and pretended to be asleep. He peeked through his lashes and saw his father slumped, holding his head in his hands. Mael muttered under his breath, “A’hm so sorry, boy, I couldnae be the man my family needs. Ah never could. Ye’d be better off wi’out me.”

That incident had terrified Rab. The days finally began to warm until summer arrived and sat on Glasgow like a brooding hen. The heat kept climbing, smothering and inescapable. To make the city even more miserable, the men responsible for collecting waste declared a strike. The Gorbals smelled horribly of sewage and baking, rotting refuse. Fat iridescent flies buzzed about everywhere and landed on Rab’s arms and face. He swatted at them in irritation, but it did no good. They rose up lazily only to land again. Rab walked down to the riverfront to search for a clean breeze. 

The port on the Clyde was busy as ever, ships coming in from all over the world. Rab watched the men unloading the cargo, strong men who lifted large wooden crates as if they weighed nothing. He wished he could just sneak onto one of the ships and escape the sweltering foulness of the city, the misery of where he lived. There had to be something, anything, better than this. He could sail away and visit exotic lands, like his papa had, have exciting adventures. But he was stuck here in this dismal life, where rats infested the riverfront, the disgusting creatures feasting on the piles of garbage strewn on every street. 

Rab saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look, saw a pale woman in white walking along the riverside. He stood up quickly. She disappeared into the crowd and Rab pushed men aside, trying to catch her. There she was! Ahead the white-haired woman turned into a lane by a garment shop. He had to catch her! He rushed into the alley, but it was empty, a dead end. His eyes were drawn upward by a movement and he saw a large white bird gliding away over the roofs. He dropped his shoulders, he would get no answers today. It was getting late, and he didn’t want to be caught out in the dark.

He made it home safely and trudged up the stairs to the flat, kicking at trash on the landing, and climbing again. The room would be crowded, smelly, and hot. Why did papa have to bring them here? For the thousandth time he wished they could go home. Rab pushed open the heavy door to their room and stopped, blinked. 

Nona leaned over her sister, who was prostrate on a nest of blankets on the floor. Nona looked at him, her kind old face wrinkled in concern. “She said she’d a headache the mornin’, now she’s burning with fever.”

Rab rushed over to kneel beside Nona. She was trying to feed her sister some broth, but Nana pushed the spoon away. “I’m not hungry, just tired. Let me rest, I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t look fine to Rab, she looked ill, and he felt a stab of fear. Nana was old, and too frail to fight any serious sickness. She looked so small, her skin paper thin and pale. As he stared a sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead and she shivered. She tried weakly to kick off the blanket. 

“No, dear, you need to stay covered.” Nona pulled the blanket back up, tucked it around the old woman. She stood up and motioned Rab to follow her to the far corner. “At first, I thought she was just feeling a bit poorly, not anything to fret about. But Camp Fever has been creeping through the Gorbals, and I’m starting to fear it.” Rab shuddered as the stuffy room abruptly turned frigid. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with fear. 

“Don’t worry yet, Rab. We won’t know for a few days. If she gets the spots we’ll know for sure. Till then I’ll pray and see to her comfort best I can. No sense borrowin’ trouble.” Rab was horrified. ” What can I do to help?” Nana was like a mother to him. She and Nona provided the only real affection he’d ever had. Rab clasped his fluttering hands together tightly and tried not to panic. 

“Run fetch me some water from the washroom, sweet boy.” She smoothed a gnarled hand over Rab’s hair, soothing him. He leaned into her touch for a moment. “I’ll be right back!” he ran over to the table and picked up a cooking pot, ran down the hall to the washroom. As the pot filled, he looked up into the cracked and spotted mirror above the basin. His brown eyes were wide with worry, his brow creased. He flipped his hair out of his face, turned off the water and grabbed the full pot with both hands. He hurried back to the room, careful not to slosh water over the sides of the container. He cradled the pot in one arm while he turned the knob and nudged the flat’s door open with a foot, closing it with a kick. 

“Bring it here, child.” Nona had ripped part of one of the clean sheets into rags and now dipped one into the cool water and wrung it out. She handed the damp cloth to Rab. ‘Here, wipe her forehead and face, her hands and feet. I’ll make some tea. We’ve got to get that fever down.” Rab sat on the floor and very gently wiped Nana’s face. Her eyes moved restlessly behind her thin lids; she’d fallen asleep in the short time he left the room. He washed her face and started on her arms. The skin there was so thin and translucent he was afraid to press too hard with the rough cloth. He worked his way painstakingly over each arm, noticing every wrinkle and age spot that marked her as old. He knew she was old of course, but it never really hit him until now. He didn’t want to think about losing her and he tried to choke down a sob.

“Rab,” Nana spoke in a hoarse whisper and Rab hurriedly leaned close.

“What Nana? What do you need?”

“I’m thirsty.” Speaking seemed to pain her.

“Nona’s making the tea now. It will be ready soon.” He crooned and held her hand gently, cooling her brow with the cloth.

“Please, so thirsty.” She closed her eyes again, and Rab stood and hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a mug.

“I’m going to get her some water, she’s really thirsty.”

“You’re a good boy, Rab.” Nona told him as he ran out of the room.

Rab rushed back in with the mug of water, knelt down and held it to the old woman’s lips. He cradled her head with one hand so she could raise it enough to drink. Nana gulped at the water desperately and Rab could see that her tongue was bright red and swollen. 

“Still thirsty.” The old woman gasped. Rab stood up to go get more water, but Nona came over with a mug of tea.

“You have some bread, Rab, eat, and we’ve some condensed milk you can mix into the rest of the water. Can’s already open. Let me give her this, now, it’s got herbs for the fever.” Rab was reluctant to leave Nana’s side, but he was starving, and he would, at least, still be in the same room with her. He mixed the milk and water in a cracked earthenware pitcher, poured some into a mug. He tore off a hunk of bread and took his meal over to the table, and ate while keeping an eye on the two women he loved so much. The other children were already abed. Some bunking down with a parent.

Rab was worried that the food was almost gone, and said,” Looks like we’ll be needing more groceries soon, Nona.” He wasn’t sure what they were gonna do about that. No one seemed to have brought anything home with them.

“Don’t worry, your papa said he’d be getting his wage the day, and you ken he’ll be bringing home what we need.”

Luckily, despite his recent drinking habits, Mael was a hard worker and was good about providing whatever he could afford. Rab relaxed a tiny bit. He never wanted these two women to suffer and he would do whatever he could to help. He wasn’t going to let Nona handle it on her own.

Nana gasped and her face contorted in pain. Rab threw down his bread and hurried over to her. He sat beside Nona as she tried to comfort her sister, smoothing the sick woman’s hair and singing softly to her. The song was a lullaby Rab had never heard before. He thought how nice it would have been to have a mother to sing to him at night. His eyes drooped as he sat there listening. 

A gentle nudge at his shoulder roused him. He looked at Nona blearily.

“Get on to bed now, Rab. I’ll watch over her,” she told him. He shook his head and stood up. He was not going to leave Nana’s side. He grabbed his cushion and dragged it over next to the sick woman and curled up next to her. He would will her better by determination alone if he had to. Whatever it took, he would do it. He yawned as he lay down, his eyes already closing. 

He woke up to the sound of low voices murmuring sometime later, unsure how long he’d been sleeping. Not long by the blackness still in the window. His papa was speaking softly to Nona.

“If she’s caught Camp Fever at her age, there’s nothin ye can do. Ye ken yer putting yersel in danger just by stayin here. Those that have family elsewhere are leavin the city.”

“Mael, even I did have somewhere to go, which I don’t, I would never leave my sister. But thank you for bringing the food. We’ll be alright for a while.”

“Stubborn old woman.” Mael sounded resigned. “Here’s what money I have, it isnae much, but take it. God knows, I can’t do anything for anybody.”

Rab felt bad for his papa, he was doing the best he could. Sighing, he turned onto his side and went back to sleep. Things would look better in the light of day.

He woke again later; it was still dark. Beside him Nana was shifting restlessly and mumbling words he couldn’t understand. Rab knelt up and put his hand on her forehead, she was so hot! Quickly he took the rag and dipped it into the pot of water by her blankets. He wrung it out as he’d seen Nona do and laid it on Nana’s skin. She moaned in her sleep. Rab wondered if he should get her a mug of water, but he didn’t want to wake her, so he merely sat and kept watch. The thick sweat pouring off her smelled foul, but the cool rag seemed to soothe her somewhat. He stayed there watching and occasionally dampening the cloth until the weak morning sun shone through the open windows.

Mael left for work early, as did the other men from the room. Nona gave sips of water to her sister, while Rab built the cookfire, hung the kettle, and heated water for tea and the dry porridge Mael had provided. When he had a big pot of steaming porridge on the table, he called the children to come eat. He took a bowl and spoon over to Nona.

“How is Nana doing? Do you think she’ll get better soon?”

“I don’t know Rab, she don’t look too good. “Nona ate her portion of porridge quickly. “Fetch another bowl, would you, I’m going to try to feed her. Then you sit down and eat. We won’t be any good to her if we let ourselves get sick too.”

Rab did as she asked, forcing himself to eat, though his stomach was churning with worry. Nona managed to get her sister to take a few bites, and Rab left with the dirty bowls to wash them. On his way out to the pump, the other children ran past him, unconcerned with adult worries, on their way to play.

He stood patiently in line at the pump, listening to the women talk about the fever sweeping the Gorbals. Many were saying they wanted to leave. Others lamented that they had no money and nowhere to go.

When Rab got back to the room he saw Nona holding a basin for her sister while she vomited. Nana apparently couldn’t keep her breakfast down. He hurried to get a mug of tea, he hoped it would soothe her stomach, but Nana indicated he should wait as her sister retched again and again. He put the tea down and gently gathered Nana’s hair back so it wouldn’t get splashed by the filth. The smell almost made him gag, and he struggled to keep his own breakfast down. It hurt him to see the woman’s body convulse every time she brought up her stomach contents, until at last it was only bile, and then heaving with no release. Finally, Nana collapsed backward onto the blankets, shivering. Nona wiped her sister’s face as the poor woman babbled incoherently. She seemed dazed, and eventually fell into a deep sleep, completely motionless. 

Rab began to wipe up the floor, and picked up the sick basin to go empty outside.

Nona looked at him sadly. “She’ll sleep for a while now, I would think. You should go get outside. No need to hang about in here. A sick room is no place for a boy. “She took the rank smelling basin from him and looked at him seriously. 

“Rab, you should think about finding a ride with one of the families that’s leaving the city. I’m afraid things are only gonna get worse here.”

Rab was shocked. ” Nona no, I cannae do that! I would never leave you or Nana here! Besides, my papa will take care of us, everything will be alright. No, dinnae say such a thing.”

Nona looked troubled, but all she said was, “I don’t think I could bear it if anything happened to you, dear boy.”

Rab stepped up to her and hugged her tightly, he willed with all his heart and soul that what he’d said was true.

He did leave the room, but he didn’t go outside as Nona suggested. He wanted to see if there was someone who could help, maybe had some medicine or herbs, even just some advice. He knocked on the door next to theirs, but got no answer, so he moved on to the next one with the same result. He knocked on the next door with more force, determined to do something to help his family. The door opened a couple of inches when he pounded on it. 

“Hello? You in there?” <>

He couldn’t hear any movement from the room, but a sickening odor washed over him, rotten and evil smelling. Rab wanted to turn and run away, but just then he heard a clatter as something fell to the wooden floor inside. What if someone needed help? He could just go find an adult, tell them to go in and look. Still, he hesitated. Most people were out of the building, either at work, gone to the pubs, or away from the city altogether. By the time he found help, it might be too late for the person inside. He rocked back and forth on his heels, the fingers of his right hand rubbing at the thumb. He didn’t want to be a coward. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and went inside. 

The smell was overwhelming, and he dropped his shirt as he abruptly vomited up his breakfast. His eyes were burning, full of tears. He couldn’t see for a moment but he could hear what sounded like hundreds of flies buzzing. When he was able to see again the blood rushed from his face and he froze in place, too frightened to move. A body lay on the floor. Rab almost fainted when the body suddenly moved, he let out a high-pitched keening sound that wanted to be a scream but couldn’t. But then he realized, it was the thick coating of shiny fat flies crawling over the corpse that gave it the illusion of movement. A huge gray rat was chewing at its face. It was horrible, the eyes missing, the lips gone, crooked blackened teeth grinning at him. He wanted to run, but his muscles were locked tight in terror.

There was another clattering sound and Rab jumped. The table was covered with dishes of moldy food. Rats ate greedily, shoving the dishes as they moved. Rab’s petrified body moved at last and he fled from the dead body, the flies, the rats, the smothering odor of death.

The days that followed were a nightmare. Rab just couldn’t believe how fast Nana was deteriorating, though he and Nona did all they could. It wasn’t much. The other families began to leave, afraid of being in the stuffy room with the sick woman, afraid their children would catch the deadly fever. Nona worked tirelessly, but Rab could see she was worn thin. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, her face haggard. 

Nona came to Rab and said,” I’m afraid I can’t get up and down the stairs anymore, Rab, will you fetch some things for me?”

Rab nodded, of course he would.

“Such a good boy. We’re going to need some potatoes, canned milk, coal. This is last of our money.” She held out the coins in a trembling hand. “Take care you don’t get robbed, thieves everywhere now.” She went back to tend the sick spinster, who had once more kicked off her covers.

It took Rab some time to find a vendor who was still doing business, but he was able to purchase a couple of candles, some potatoes, and a can of milk. There was no one selling coal. On his way home, he saw almost no children or men on the streets, just the occasional woman. The women had cloths tied around their faces and carried their market baskets close to their sides, looking around fearfully. 

When Rab got back to the room he set down the supplies, said, “There was no coal to be had, I’m sorry.”

“’S alright sweet boy, not yer fault.” She sat in a chair slumped and exhausted.

“How is Nana? Can I get her some water? Some bread?” He wanted to ease Nona’s burden a bit, if he could.

“She’s sleeping. Poor thing is showing the spots, there’s no doubting the illness now.” Nona looked resigned.

A sliver of ice traced down Rab’s spine. He’d been expecting it, but now it was confirmed he felt hollow. 

By that afternoon, he had little hope left. Nana alternately shouted in delirium or faded into a sleep so deep she appeared already dead. Rab straightened her blankets, laundered the bedclothes when they became soaked in yellow foul sweat. He wiped her down with cool water, emptied the basin she used for bathroom and vomit. When he wasn’t doing that, he tried to clean the room. If he could just keep busy enough, he wouldn’t have to think about what was happening.

By that evening the old woman’s words were slurred and incomprehensible. Her fever was so high that heat radiated off her thin form. Rab was attempting to cool her down for what seemed the thousandth time when her eyes suddenly opened. Startled, Rab yelped. Nona hurried over to see what was wrong and Nana’s eyes rolled back in her head, showing only the whites. Her entire body bowed up off the blankets and began thrashing wildly.

“Hold ‘er Rab! I gotta keep her from biting her tongue!” Nona shoved a rag in her sister’s mouth as Rab tried desperately to hold her thrashing body still. One of Nana’s arms flung out and smacked Rab in the face, but he didn’t let go. The convulsions became less and less severe until finally Nana lay still. After that incident Nana fell asleep and didn’t move at all.

Rab lay in one of the recessed beds that night. The men had all left and he could finally sleep wherever he wanted. He’d asked Nona if they could move Nana to one of the beds, but Nana was worried that if her sister had another fit, she might fall and injure herself. So, he finally had a comfortable bed, but he couldn’t sleep. What if Nona got sick too? What if he couldn’t care for two people? And most of all, he wondered why his papa didn’t come home. He must be trying to find supplies. They would run out soon. He turned over on his side, flipped to his back, and rubbed the thin quilt in his restless fingers. He thought about praying. If God cared He would have done something by now. God didn’t care about nobodies like him. He was nothing, of no importance in the world. The night was interminable.

“Why hasn’t papa come back?” He’d done all the chores he could think of that morning. Nana lay insensible, and with nothing to occupy him, Rab finally asked the question that had troubled him most all night.

Nana wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Let’s worry about one thing at a time, ‘eh, darlin’? Would you try to give her some water?” She motioned to her sister, who still hadn’t moved at all. He tried to gently place a mug at Nana’s cracked lips, but the water merely dribbled down her face onto her neck. Rab wet the cloth and moistened her lips. She was in a deep coma, not aware of him. He leaned over and kissed her wrinkled face, a tear sliding down his sharp nose to fall there. Her breathing was rasping, very quick and shallow, he could see where the red spots spread, evidence of bleeding under the skin. He felt so helpless, so useless. 

The room heated up throughout the afternoon. Nona sat listless, purple smudges under her eyes, her mouth working. Rab felt they were existing in slow motion. The room reeked, the air thick with the odor of approaching death. He went to wipe Nana’s face and hands and noted with no surprise that her fingers were turning dark with poor blood flow. The rat eaten corpse in the other room had the same discoloration. He stood up and staggered, his muscles ached. He was so tired he didn’t know how he would take another step. There was no noise coming through the windows from the street below.

They were out of coal. There would be no way to cook or boil water if they didn’t get more, but there was no money left. 

Rab hesitantly stepped out of the door to the street. He was fearful, no telling what the city was like now. No help for it, they had to have coal. He looked up and down the street, surprised by the emptiness. There were still the usual beggars and cripples who had no other home than a poorly covered stoop. The crowds of lively children playing in the streets were gone. There weren’t any gossiping housewives hanging out laundry. There were no drunken men shouting or laughing. Uneasy, Rab made his way to the High Street. There more people here, but they were subdued, grim faced. Many of the shops were closed, and when people did buy, they did so in a quick, businesslike manner, standing at a distance from each other and not exchanging pleasantries.

Rab walked swiftly, kept his head down. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He reached the end of the cobbled street . It dead ended into a tall double iron gate. When the ornate gates were opened, the space would be wide enough for the coal lorries to drive through, carrying deliveries to those who could afford it. He wasn’t one of those, would never be. But, he knew, the lorries when filled with mountains of coal and bumping over the cobbles, often spilled some of their load. Sure enough, several black lumps lay scattered on the street. Rab pulled off his shirt and knotted the bottom off, tied the sleeves together to make a handle. Armed with his makeshift sack, he picked up as many pieces as he could cram into the bag.

Rab headed back home, whistling softly, proud that he was doing something useful. He felt hope for the first time that day. He’d make Nana well, papa would come back, everything would be better. They’d take the spinsters and leave the city forever, go somewhere clean.

He pushed open the door, holding up the sack to show Nona what he’d done, ready to tell her all about his plans. Then he dropped from his nerveless hands. Nona knelt on the floor, cradling the dead body of her beloved sister and weeping silently. Rab knelt next to her, tears flowing freely as he wept, unashamed. ********


	4. The Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the skipped chapter that came after The City chapter and before New Tricks chapter. It has important information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that in this story, Rab’s mother was a good woman who loved him with all her heart and soul. She was a normal human woman, and she LOVED him.  
> Also, as horrific as the circumstances in this chapter seem, they were the norm for a great many people in Glasgow during that period in history. I did a lot of research and personally visited the areas represented. There is a preserved tenement house there which you can see some of the things described for yourself, although the worst of the slums have long since been demolished. The descriptions of illness are real, as is the hard life of the children, the Fair and it’s entertainments, and even the marvelous Toby.  
> Any racism is indicative of the times and most definitely not shared by me. One should note, that the “savage African tribes” were actually English in blackface.
> 
> Glasgow today is a beautiful, vibrant city, filled with friendly people and fascinating museums. There is, honestly, no better place on earth.

“Soraidh slan le na h-uile a tha mi air a bhith measail.”  
Farewell to all I have loved.

Nona’s eyes were hollow. She shuffled around the flat slowly, a clock winding down. Nana’s body lay on the floor, covered by a sheet, and the rising sun threw a dirty and vague light over it.

“Rab,” Nona touched a wrinkled hand gently to his shoulder, “ye’re gonnae have ta take her doon t’ tha street. Tha body collectors’ll be here’s soon an ahm just too weak ta dae it. Ahm sorry.”

Rab threw his arms around her, trying not to cry. 

“Don’t worry, Nona, I’ll take care of it.”

He turned away so she wouldn’t see the pain on his face. She didn’t need the extra burden. The poor woman’s hair was lank, her cheeks sunken. To Rab she appeared defeated. His heart hurt as he picked up her poor sister’s body. It was light, so light, and Rab cradled it like an infant. 

Nona opened the door for him, and kissing her fingertips, pressed them to her sibling’s covered head.

“Goodbye, my sister.” 

Rab exited the stairwell at ground level to the street outside. There were several bodies laying on the sidewalk, some crumpled in ungainly positions, dumped like so much refuse. Rab wasn’t going to leave Nana. He sat down cross legged on the dirty sidewalk among the corpses, and held his beloved aunt in his lap, singing softly to her as he wept.

Eventually the clatter of wagon wheels over cobbles silenced him. The death wagon was approaching. Rab waited until the grim men collected all the other corpses and then said a silent farewell to the woman who’d been one of the few people to ever show him kindness. He lay her on the cart, then stiffly turned and walked away. 

For several days after that the flat lay smothered by a heavy silence. Nona paced slowly, a sleepwalker in her grief. Rab continued to go out to gather coal and beg food. After the third such day ended unsuccessfully, he lay in his bed that evening miserable and hungry. His stomach was an angry clenching fist inside him, and Nona was growing ever more listless. He had to find a way to help them. Rab made the harsh decision to go down to the workhouse in the morning. The workhouse was a place of last resort, sought only by those whose alternative was a slow death by starvation. His always restless hands did a spasm of dismay on his bony chest so he held them tight. His mind was made up. 

Finally, he slept. 

Rab woke in the darkest part of night, that lonely time when everything seems threatening and hopeless. His head pounded with dull but powerful waves of pain. His mouth felt far too dry and his throat burned. He tried to lift his head, wanting water, but a chill wracked body and he fell back, shuddering. Trying again, he threw his feet to the floor and managed to shuffle to the pitcher on the table. He drank as much water as he could, but it didn’t help. The burning didn’t abate. He was dizzy, tried to sway toward the bed, but it was miles away.

“Hmmphh?” Rab was aware of hands taking his, helping to prop him up, Nona shuffling him back to his warm blanket. 

“Nona, you should be resting.” He tried to protest, but his voice echoed oddly in his own head. What was wrong with him? He let her lay him down and cover him, but the blanket didn’t warm him. He was shaking so hard, so tired. 

Rab woke sometime later, confused. Sweat soaked through his nightclothes. Abruptly, he vomited over the side of the bed. Someone had placed a large earthenware basin there. 

“Nona,” he thought. “I’m sick” 

He couldn’t stop retching. Every time he thought it had ended, his tortured stomach heaved again. It was painful. His entire body ached, even his hair hurt. His bones were in torment. The constant vomiting sapped his strength. At last only thin yellow bile came up and he laid still, breathing heavily. 

Nana brought him water occasionally, but they had no food, save a thin gruel infested with insect carcasses. He couldn’t understand why the room kept getting fuzzy and dark. His spidery hands crawled around on their own as he lay moaning.

By the second week, Rab knew he was dying. The room stank, the air hot and thick, and his skin felt greasy. He thrashed pitifully, unable to get comfortable, his very skin in raw pain where the covers touched him. He was only vaguely aware of Nona bringing him water, and he was not often able to keep it down.

Rab went through shivering fits on and off, and his teeth chattered audibly. Yellow foul smelling sweat poured off his writhing body as tears leaked from his eyes. The pain was endless, unendurable. His shriveled lips split and bled. He could feel his hands clench and his neck cords strain as yet another wave of agony swept over him. His face was skeletal, dark purple bruises in the hollows under his eyes. Even when he finally fell unconscious his small hands worried ceaselessly, grasping the bedclothes and each other, forever seeking comfort that wouldn’t come.

At an unknown time in the long night a soft sound awoke him.The room was pitch black and he was too weak to rise up and see what made the noise.

“Nona?” His voice came out scratchy, weak and strange. He tried again.

“Nona?”

A glowing ball of blue light seemed to float into the room through the broken window. Now he was hallucinating. Death was a certainty.

The light stopped in the center of the room and began to expand. Rab watched listlessly as it gradually took a human form and transformed into a winged being. A fairy. Rab felt no fear, no surprise, just a weary, apathetic acceptance.

The glowing creature spoke.

“You are quite near near death, young Rab. Closer than many have ever been.”

Rab suffered another shivering fit, and the fairy smiled, her eyes merry.

She flittered forward, looking down at him with that cold smile. “You won’t escape me that easily!” Mocking laughter. “The deal your parents made must be fulfilled. I will not remain beholden to the demon for that bitch’s sake. No! That price is yours to pay.”

“You.. knew my.. father... and mother?” Rab struggled to see her as she bobbed in the air.

“Your mother! That disgusting bitch!” 

The fairy became still, calm, her face stony as she leaned over the sick and starving child. She chanted something Rab couldn’t understand, something that filled his lonely soul with sunshine and soothed his weary body and his battered heart. He smelled the scent of violets and something like mint. As the being passed a hand over him, he relaxed, feeling warm and comfortable. He was at peace.

She stared at him. “You are healed, death will not take you yet.” 

Rab thought that, oddly, she didn’t look too pleased. Then once more the fairy shrank down, becoming a blue ball of light which floated out of the dismal room and into the night. His strange dream over, Rab sank gratefully into a deep restful sleep that lasted until morning.

Stretching, Rab came awake. Surprise bloomed on his face when he realized he had lived through the night. He was still extremely weak, though his fever had finally broken. After a good bit of grunting and effort he was able to turn on his side and face out toward the room. He was so happy to tell Nona that he was going to be alright. His eyes darted about the flat as he searched for her, but she wasn’t in the room. Rab fought to sit up, pushing until the sweat dripped from his face, but was just too frail. He flopped backdown, gasping. Probably she had gone out to fetch the water.

Rab smiled crookedly as he recalled his fuzzy dream. He knew about fairies, just like everyone, but it was impossible that a powerful creature like that would have taken any notice of him. He was no one, would always be no one. But then he recalled the Seer from his island, and the vision at the standing stones, and terror made the skin of his back crawl. He wanted no part of magic or power or visions of the future. His life had been hell since then. 

He lay awhile, brooding and staring at a crack in the ceiling, until he couldn’t stand his thirst anymore. He’d have to make an attempt to get water. Rab shifted his body to the edge of the bed. Slowly he hung his legs over the side, his face pressed into the mattress until his feet touched the floor. He tried to put weight on his feet and immediately collapsed on the floor in a heap. Tumbling there, panting, he waited for his heart to stop pounding. He was not sick anymore, but he was still starved and shaking. Where on earth was Nona? She should be back soon, he knew she wouldn’t leave him for long. He lay on his stomach, resting, idly watching a spider construct an intricate web in the space under the bed. Rab admired the spinner’s talent, it’s singular drive as it pulled the delicate silk from its body, creating a tiny work of art. 

His throat was parched and if he tried to move his lips, they cracked and hurt. He had to get water. Rab tried to push his body across the floor by digging his toes into the uneven floorboards. He wriggled forward a scant couple of inches. That tiny bit of progress caused him to moan. He was so weak! 

Little by little he struggled on his belly toward the table, his head hanging down, jaw clenched. He’d made what he estimated to be halfway when his lowered head bumped into a pile of rags. He tried to shove them aside, but they were weighted down by something heavy and soft. Puzzled, he lifted his head with a mighty effort. He couldn’t figure out what he was looking at. Why would Nona leave this mess in the floor? It wasn’t like her. Quaking, he ran his hand against the pile. With dawning horror Rab realized it was a body. With a cry he forced himself onto his knees . He was able to see Nona’s head, her brown eyes open, faded and empty. Rab wailed. He saw that the old woman didn’t have any signs of illness; she hadn’t died of the fever. The constant strain and worry of caring for him on top of her only family’s death had been too much. He had killed her. The only one left to love him, and he had killed her. Just like his mother. 

Now Rab was utterly alone in the world, his family all gone. Killed or driven away by his weakness. Ever since Mael had deserted him, he’d stubbornly held onto hope. He’d done his best to believe in love and goodness. He’d held off black despair. Now he collapsed to the floor and let it overwhelm him. 

*************************** 

Rab’s bare foot was cold. The rags he wrapped it in had slipped off again during the night. He shoved the frozen appendage under the leg of the child huddled next to him in the alley. The toddler grunted but didn’t wake.

After his aunts passed and the landlord threw him out of his home, Rab didn’t have anywhere to go. He’d taken what small items he could carry that might have some meager value, as well as his other set of clothes, and pawned his possessions for a few pennies. After that, Rab wandered, insides hollowed out by hunger and misery, trying to figure out what he could do.  
Eventually he’d stumbled into the alley he now lived in.

Many orphans, who’d lost their parents to disease, murder, or work accidents, had taken to sleeping in the small dirty alleyways. They huddled together at night in a pathetic attempt to stay warm. They were malnourished, hollow eyed, and diseased. Some were missing limbs, courtesy of jobs in the workhouse, some as young as four. 

Rab was determined never to return to that hellish place. He’d worked there fourteen hours a day, the room unbearably loud and smoke filled, forced to push his small body into the tight spaces of the giant clanking machines to carry out his tasks. Often the machines he crawled into were still operating, the foreman didn’t want to lose production by shutting them down for the safety of an expendable child. Rab would not go back there and risk becoming a cripple, so now he lived in this stone enclosure with the other orphans. 

Many of the ones who used to be here had died during the brutal winter, some of them freezing to death, and some, desperate and selling their bodies, beaten to death by customers. 

For a while Rab had gotten work as a chimney sweep. He would crawl down the chimneys of wealthy homeowners to clean, and emerge covered in soot. The claustrophobic passages were narrow and crooked, and he’d always had bloody knees and elbows. Once, he’d gotten stuck in a chimney and panicked. When the master of the house heard Rab screaming for help, he built a fire under him to “get him moving.” It was a terrifying experience and the end of Rab’s career as a sweep. 

Finally he stretched himself awake, stood up, and grabbed a makeshift broom that was leaning against the stone wall. Whistling, he made his way to the High Street to try to make some coin. The air was warming as the sun came up over the stone buildings, illuminating their sooty sides and dirty windows. The summer days were finally here and the Fair was at Saltmarket. Rab looked forward to going as soon as he earned a few coins.

A lady in very fine clothes was preparing to cross the street to reach the shops on the other side. Her female servant looked around, hoping apparently to find a cross sweeper. Rab ran up to them.

“A’ll clean that for ye!” Taking his little broom in hand, Rab began to sweep the refuse and horse dung aside, creating a clear path for the wealthy woman and her chaperone to cross without getting their fine gowns soiled. When a carriage passed clos by, Rab gave a startled shout and bumped into the woman. 

“Sorry, mum, so sorry.” The woman gave him a distracted smile, eager to get to the boutiques. Once across, she tossed a penny to Rab, who snatched it from the air, quick as a serpent, and flashed her a crooked grin. 

The penny she gave him would get him into the Fair, but the bag of coins he’d pickpocketed off her would do a lot more. Rab had learned a lot living among the great city’s unwanted and unnoticed children. Pocketing the bag, he strutted off toward the Saltmarket and a day of fun. 

Before he’d even reached the grounds, he could hear the music of the pipers and smell the mouth water aroma of roasting meats. His always empty stomach rumbled loudly and Rab quickened his pace. As soon as he entered the area he was surrounded by a press of humankind and the smell of unwashed bodies was powerful. Geggys and keek shows were set up everywhere, and many of the accents he heard were not Scottish. Lots of Irish immigrants were there, and the posh people from the south had traveled up to visit, hoping to see the famous Scottish actors. Posters proclaimed that they could witness Geordie Henderson perform his astounding “dying fall”, as well as see actor Johnny Parry dangle from the end of a rope in a hanging scene. Some men were there simply to take advantage of the shabeens and brothels that surrounded the Saltmarket area. 

Rab pushed his way through the throng, excited to get to the keek shows. He forced his way through a group surrounding a man who was attempting to play the bagpipes and dance a highland fling at the same time. Rab stopped to laugh. Both music and dance suffered from the kilted man’s efforts, and the audience seemed delighted with the results.

Rab moved on, rudely jostled, and found his way to a tent. The man outside, dressed in tartan, shouted, “Enter to see the most incredible humans on this earth. The Mighty Bosjesmans, from deepest, darkest Africa. A savage tribe that devours live animals!”

Yes! Rab just had to see that! Imagine how jealous the other boys in the alley would be tonight when he told them of the cannibalist tribe he’d seen.

He gave the man at the front a penny and the creep then pulled aside the the canvas flap so Rab could enter. Lanterns lit the dim interior. Rab walked across the straw strewn ground and made his way to a graduated row of wooden benches. He looked around at the other customers. Some were obviously poor, some well off, but all were in high spirits, happy to be at the fair. 

A drum beat echoed out of the darkness, a mysterious rhythm of jungles and unknown places. Rab could feel it resonate in his bones. He leaned forward, straining to see. There was a collective gasp as dark men dressed in animal skins and feathers danced their way into the lights. They moved fluidly, chanting in a peculiar tongue. As the drumbeats increased in tempo and volume, the savages stomped their feet, flinging their arms into the air. Their skin was black and velvety looking, their teeth flashing white in their onyx faces. Rab was entranced. He suddenly realized how small his own world was, how little he’d seen. He wondered if his life would always be confined to a gloomy dark alley, smelling of garbage and piss. He wanted more, so much more. 

Before Rab had a chance to daydream much, one of the savages picked up a wooden box and thrust his hand inside. He pulled out a large rat and displayed it to the audience. It was obviously alive, squirming in his fist. The drumbeats became louder, the sound filling the tent. Rab’s heartbeat echoed the fierce sound. 

The crown gasped as the tribesman brought the shrieking creature to his mouth and tore off its head with his gleaming teeth and swallowed it whole. There were screams and a load moan as the woman next to Rab swooned, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the grisly spectacle.

Bright blood dripped down from the black man’s teeth and chin as he stripped the meat from the small bones of the carcass. The other members of the tribe kept up their rhythmic chanting and stomping.

Although some patrons left before the rest of the show, mainly gentlemen urged to by their offended wives, Rab sat through the entire performance, captivated. When he left, he was satisfied that he’d gotten his money’s worth. But there was still a great deal more to see, and his head swiveled about as he walked. What a perfect day! Good weather, money, and the smell of cooking meat everywhere. He hadn’t had any breakfast so he struggled through the crowd toward the food stalls. He could probably afford a whole meat pie just for himself. Imagine.

A voice drew his attention.

“Come on in! See a most extraordinary and singular phenomenon! Come see Toby, The Learned Pig! The only human intelligent porker on the planet!”

A smart pig, that was really something. Despite his rumbling stomach, Rab could not resist. He handed over the money to the barker at the door flap and entered the tent.The interior of the keek show was much like that of the last one, except that someone had lain boards over the earth to make a floor. There were also a lot more lanterns so that the area was brightly lit.Rab chose a seat among the other chattering patrons and waited for the show to begin.

Once the stands were full, the man who’d been out front entered through the tent flap, closed it, and walked to the center of the room. He raised a hand for silence.

“You are about to witness the pinnacle of mankind’s mastery over the beasts. The skillful animal trainer you are about to see has managed to take a dumb beast of the lowest species and impart to it an intelligence to rival your own.”

Their were some grumbles and scoffs at this pronouncement. Some of the more religious were affronted.

“Behold Dr. Samuel Johnson and the astounding Toby, The Learned Pig!”

A man in a fine coat and spectacles entered the room . He led a quite decorous pig on a shining chain. The animal walked delicately on tidy hooves, it’s hair sleek, black and glossy. It was dressed in tiny brocade waistcoat. The audience laughed, delighted with the handsome creature, and Rab clapped his hands.

Dr. Johnson lay the pig’s chain on the floor, and it stood placidly. The Dr. then placed some cards with letters printed on them on the floor in a neat line in front of the animal. The cards were inked boldly and and writ large, so that everyone in the audience could see them. The pig merely glanced at the audience with a serene side eye.

The Dr. indicated the pig and the cards. 

“You are about to see this wondrous creature demonstrate a level of intelligence that you will scarce believe, though you witness the event with your own eyes.”

A man let out a muffled laugh. Dr. Johnson pointed at him, the gentleman was wearing a moss green jacket, seated in the second row. 

“You, sir, would you kindly tell Toby your name? Speak clearly, please.”

“Ian!” The man shouted, laughing, and the audience laughed along. As if a pig could understand a name.

“Toby will now demonstrate his knowledge of language and spelling by arranging these cards to correctly spell out your name,” promised the Dr. and the audience laughed even louder.

Rab chuckled too. That would be something to see.

“The name is Ian,” Toby’s instructor spoke clearly. The pig, with no hesitation at all, trotted over to one of the cards, lifted it in his snout, and presented it to the Dr.

“I!” Shouted the man, showing the card to the audience.

Rab was stunned. All around him were loud gasps, startled laughter, and exclamations of delight. The Learned Pig Toby trotted over to another card a bit further towards the front of the line and repeated his gesture, gave another card to the Dr., who flourished it at the crowd.

“A!”

Rab clapped his hands as hard as he could, amazed. He watched with joy as the smart pig finished spelling the name.

Rab hoped the Dr. would call on him for his name, but although the pig spelt out several more names, his was not one of them. He wasn’t too disappointed, though. He was astounded at the creature’s intelligence. It appeared to be able to spell as well as Rab himself, who had learned the basics of reading and arithmetic from Mael.

After the spelling demonstration, Dr. Johnson picked up the lettered cards and lay out a line of new cards labeled with numbers zero through ten. 

“Now, Toby, please count the number of patrons we have here today.”

The pig, switching his tasseled tail, eyed the gathered people with a liquid brown piggy eye. There was some nervous tittering. Rab had the oddest feeling that the pig was judging him. Finally, Toby tapped elegantly over to the cards, took one in his snout, and laid it down a few feet away from the others. The he went back, picked up a second one, and placed it next to the first.

“Twelve!” Cried the Dr. Will someone please count the audience members?”

A very fat gentleman with slicked back dark hair and jowls stood up.

“Aye, ah will. Reckon ah kin count well as yon pig.” He pointed to each audience member and then to himself, counting out loud, and announced, “Twelve!”

The people erupted into whistles and applause, while Toby stood placidly, unbothered. His piggy face remained unfazed.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” the Dr. walked up to the front row, scanning the crowd. “You there, sir, would you mind checking your watch for the time? No,” the Dr. held up a warning hand, “don’t say it aloud. Toby! Come!”

The pig walked gracefully to the duo. 

“Now, show him the watch, please, and you others may want to check the time on your own watches.”

Several gentlemen pulled out pocket watches and looked at them, some showing them to the women who were with them. The man with the jowls held his watch down for the pig to inspect. After a glance sideways at the watch, Toby sauntered over to the line of numbers and pulled out cards one at a time, arranging them into a row. 

The Dr. bent over to retrieve the cards and held them up to the audience. 

“One thirty!” 

As the crowd applauded wildly a firecracker sailed out from somewhere in back of the stands to land on the ground near Toby. When it popped, the pig emitted an earsplitting squeal and bolted, trailing the bright chain behind. It squeezed its panicked bulk under the tent canvas and disappeared, still shrieking.

Rab ran out of the tent with the rest of the people eager to discover where the pig went. They and the Dr. we’re easily able to locate the pig by following the squeals. Rab wondered if the man would continue the show or beat the pig. He didn’t feel it was the pig’s fault.

Dr. Johnson stroked the pig, picked up Toby’s chain and started to lead the now calmed animal back toward his tent. Toby had other ideas, because they happened to be passing a large, filthy puddle of muck. The usually decorous porker gave a mighty tug on his chain. The Dr. hauled back on the leash with all his strength, but Toby, no matter his unusual intellect, was still a pig. He gave a great snort of delight and threw his nattily dressed bulk into the deep mud. Flopping on one side and then the other, he grunted with pleasure, covering himself in grime. He dug his snout into the mud, blowing up gouts of dirt and water. Finally, completely buried in the stinking filth, waistcoat ruined, he blinked up out of one piggy eye and gave a soft grunt of complete satisfaction. 

The crowd was roaring with laughter. Rab bent over, clutching his knees, trying to get his breath. It was the funniest sight he’d ever seen. 

The Dr. was frantically pulling his star’s lead, to no avail, his face red. The people were pushing and shoving, slapping each other’s backs with joy, making good natured jokes at the frustrated Dr.’s dilemma. 

As a thought occurred to Rab, he sobered quickly. Thanks to all the chaos, it should be easy to lift a few more coins. He could have his own meat pie and still bring home some for the other orphans in the alley. He spotted a woman whose eyes were filled with tears of mirth, pointing at the scene and laughing. Just as he was easing a hand carefully into her bag, his wrist was gripped by an iron hand. 

“Pickpocket!” The furious man who held him screamed. Rab brought up a bare foot, lightning fast, and kicked the man in the groin. The man yelled and automatically let go of Rab’s wrist. Rab tore off through the crown, shoving his way desperately out toward the street. When he reached the open street he continued running for another block until he allowed himself to slow to a walk and check over his shoulder to see if he had been followed. 

“Psst!” 

Alarmed, Rab whipped his head toward the sound. 

“Over here, young friend, quick!” 

Rab heard shouting as the man who’d grabbed him burst out of the fairground and onto the street, obviously searching. 

“Hurry! Hide here!” The tall man in the alley beckoned. 

With little choice, Rab scurried over to the alley and did as the man gestured him to do, hiding behind him and holding his breath in fright. He crouched there, trembling, until the man turned around and grasped him by the hand, helping him to stand. He was frightened again, but the man seemed to understand and released his hand immediately. The man gave him a huge white smile.

“Don’t worry, the mark’s gone. You’re safe now.” The man leaned back casually against the wall, crossing one long booted leg over the other. To Rab, he appeared outlandish, his attire bizarre. The man wore a bright burgundy tailcoat, a gold silk shirt and a green cravat. Strangest of all, his top hat was purple. 

“Can you talk?” The gentleman, or so he seemed, looked amused.

“Yes. Yes, yes of course I can. Who are you? What do you want?”

“Straight to the point,” the man mused.”Not sure how I feel about that. In any case it’s more about what you want, my lightfingered friend. I’m Jeff.” And he stuck his hand out, obviously intending for Rab to shake it.

Off balance by the man’s odd manner Rab shook his hand. “I’m Rab.”

“Are you hungry, young man? I’m just on my way to eat and I could use some company. I do believe I may have a proposition for a gentleman of slippery morals such as yourself.”

And just like that, Rab’s life was about to change again.


	5. New Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fixed the chapter order and posted the chapter that was missing before this one. If you’ve read this before you need to go back to chap 4, it’s the missing chap.

Rab and Jeff walked up Buchanan street side by side, Rab lengthening his strides to keep up with the rangy con man, whose stroll was an effortless swagger Rab envied. Someday he’d have a walk like that, a subtle thrusting forward of the pelvis, arms swinging easily. A cocky, rolling gait that told the world here was a man of importance, a man you wanted to know, a man with a large...well.

. “Okay, here it is.” Jeff gestured to a well known jewelry store, and Rab clenched his hands into fists, all unknowingly.  


“Don’t be nervous, my friend, all you have to do is look like you belong here. In this life, perception is everything.” Jeff winked at him, looking him over with amusement. “Ninety percent is just pretending you belong. Trust me. Act it, and they’ll believe it. You would not imagine the bullshit I’ve gotten away with by just being what they want to see!” And of course, con men and women everywhere live by this. And grow rich by it. Some rule by it, and if not intelligent enough, fall by it. 

Jefferson had earlier that week taken Rab shopping to help solidify Rab’s new persona. Rab was glad for the new clothes because there’s no way he would have looked like a potential customer in his usual rags and bare feet. He was also relieved that his friend had allowed him to pick out his own attire, as he was certain that he was unable to pull off the outrageous tastes of the tall criminal.  


“Now, I’ve been in here a few times already to scout the layout. You just stroll around, mark where the back exit is, and remember any pieces that you might like to keep for yourself.” Jeff grinned at him, displaying his most charming smile.  


Rab looked up at his friend, mouth hanging open in surprise, and blinked stupidly.  


Jeff chuckled wickedly. “If you’re going to help me, you’re going to enjoy it! Doing for yourself is what life’s all about, eh? After we pull this off, there’ll be no more rags and hunger for you, my desperate little friend!”  


Jeff pushed open the door to the shop and gestured grandly for Rab to enter ahead of him. Rab stepped into the store and immediately froze, gaping at the carved display cases and the glittering wealth they held. It wasn’t him, he felt dirty compared, dull, inconsequential. This was a mistake, his hands began to rub each other, seeking a comfort that didn’t exist. 

“Look as if you belong,” Jeff hissed, pushing him slightly, “go look around.”  


Rab shook himself and began to walk slowly toward the displays, Lord he was blowing it already! He tried to appear nonchalant, glancing at the jewelry as if he was considering making a purchase. It was difficult not to betray his wonder and excitement at the objects within. Glimmering gold brooches, shining gems mounted in earrings, necklaces, rings. The emeralds, rubies, and diamonds looked like the most luxurious candy in the world, and he imagined himself scooping it up. Rab’s attention was drawn to a ring obviously meant for a gentleman, a thick gold band featuring a large moonstone. The gem changed color as he tilted his head. It made him dream. In his mind he saw himself in a suit , swinging a walking stick as the ring gleamed on his hand. He’d be just like the aristocratic men he’d envied on the street. This was what he’d keep for himself.  


Risking a glance at his partner, Jeff made a motion for Rab to turn around the corner of the display case. Upon doing so, he saw the back exit was located down a short hallway, leading to the alley behind the building, where they would not be spotted when making off with the loot. Jeff then motioned Rab to join him at the counter, where he was having a discussion with the shop’s proprietor.  


“Perhaps the ruby ear bobs,” Jeff was saying.  


“Yes sir,” the shop owner bent to remove the jewelry from the case and Jeff grinned at Rab and winked.  


“Here you are sir,” the man lay the earrings on a square of velvet atop the case. Jeff leaned over to peer at them, his eyes winking brighter than the jewels, and twice as wise, maybe even more full of the strange knowledge that comes from under the earth.

“As you see for yourself, sir, the stones are of the highest quality and cut, every piece that we offer in this shop is meticulously inspected by me personally before it is ever considered to be offered to the public.” The jeweler, smug. 

Jeff gestured at the jewelry, haughty, and turned to Rab, an inquiring and amused look on his face.  


“And what say you, son? Is it your opinion that your dear mother would enjoy these baubles?”  


Rab smirked, ”Indeed it is not, father.” He tried not to laugh aloud at the shopkeepers obvious dismay.  


“But surely sir,” stammered the man, “the advice of a child, intelligent as I am certain that he is-“  


Jeff cut the man off.  


“Quite correct, my dear sir. One should always take into account the advice of those of higher intellect.” Jeff raised a brow at the man he’d insulted and placing a hand on Rab’s shoulder, led him out of the shop.  


Once they exited the jewelry store Rab and Jeff collapsed into laughter. Once he was able to gain control of himself, Jeff spoke to Rab in a serious tone.“One more place to visit, dear boy.”  


He led Rab up a staircase next the jewelry store that exited on the second landing. A long walkway led to yet more shops.  


“Where are we going now?” Rab glanced at Jeff, who still seemed to be holding in laughter. The con man enjoyed a bit of mischief , obviously. Rab realized he did, too. And even a bit of subtle cruelty, if it was aimed at those who looked down on him.  


“We can’t simply enter the shop from the street to aquire our wealth, we’d be seen by the watchman. We must, therefore, use another means of entry. Ah, here we are.” Jeff stood outside the entrance to Campbell’s Soft Goods.  


“This warehouse is directly above the jewelry store. On the night that we need to enter, I will have procured a skeleton key from a talented acquaintance in London. He owes me a favor. We’ll use the key to enter the warehouse, and once inside we shall cut through the floor and descend to the riches below.”  


Rab grinned back at Jeff. He was impressed with the thouroughness of the scheme, and said so.  


“Oh, that’s not the full of it yet , my young partner in crime.” Jeff turned and let Rab hurry along behind him down the staircase and out into the throngs on the High Street, where the wealthy and poor intermingled, all intent on their own business. They passed in front of a lavish carriage and crossed to the far side of the road, entering a small café, where Jeff chose a seat next to the large front window. They could observe a great stretch of the street.  


“We’ll be sitting here for a good while, so order whatever pleases you. Have something to eat and drink. I myself am quite parched, and looking forward to a good whisky.”  


Rab was hungry too, but he suspected the wily criminal had other reasons for choosing this particular café to eat in. After they placed their orders he glanced at Jeff, who was smiling to himself, dreamy, and staring out the window.  


“What are you looking for? What did you mean there’s more to the plan, what’s the rest?” He babbled, high on new feelings, trickery, the ability to manipulate those less intelligent, less able to skirt useless morals. What use morality when you were starving?

Jeff smirked at him. “As you see, the sun is fast going down. Keep an eye out for the policeman who patrols this street, he should be along any moment.”  


Sure enough, a uniformed policeman sauntered down the sidewalk across the busy thoroughfare. He seemed menacing to Rab in his sharp uniform, his eyes surveying everything. For a split second the cop turned his head toward the café, quick and hawklike, looking right at Rab. Rab held his breath as if the man could hear it from far away. Suddenly he didn’t feel so smug. 

“Keep watching” Jeff instructed.  


Rab kept an eye on the man as he passed in front of the jewelry store and turned into the alley beside the staircase they’d gone up earlier.  


“He’ll be going around the back, past the back of the building and then up the alley to exit on the high street. After that, hell head back the way he came to start his beat all over. Its” Jeff pulled out his pocketwatch and checked the time,” eight o’clock, now. If we wait until 10 o’clock, he’ll be far away, at the very start of his watch. That will give us plenty of time to slip up the stairs unseen. The private watchman starts his shift at 11 and knocks off at 6 in the morning. We’ll wait in the shop til then and then slip out the back door with our riches.” Jeff sat back, taking a sip of whisky and looking quite pleased with himself.  


Rab couldn’t keep the grin off his face. It would be an adventure, it was foolproof, and they’d be rich. His lower half felt molten and warm.  


“When are we going to do it, Jeff?”  


“Four nights hence. Say goodbye to your old life friend, with me by your side, you’ll be living the life of luxury from now on.” Jeff spread his arms, expansive, as if the city was theirs already.  


The next time their server approached the table, Jeff ordered whiskys for both of them, and Rab didn’t say no.

********************************************** 

Heist night the moon was a pale sliver behind billowing clouds, lending precious little illumination to the empty streets. The flickering gas lamps made bright puddles of amber light on the sidewalk below, but all around the small golden oases the shadows were deep and ominous. It was a perfect night for anyone up to no good.  


Rab and Jeff slipped up the back alley in the gloom, and reached Prince’s Court without mishap. Rab looked around as they emerged at the staircase, which at this time was barred and locked by an ornate iron gate. Rab chewed on his lower lip, hands fluttering as he watched Jefferson pull out the skeleton key and slip it carefully into the lock. He held as his breath as the gate swung open, slowly, inch by painful inch, so as not to make noise. Jeff eased through the opening, so gently, and made a hand motion for Rab to follow.  


Rab climbed up the stairs behind His friend, and they made their way to the door of the soft goods warehouse. His heart was beating so hard as to be painful, and he clenched his jittery hands into fists to keep them from flying about. Sweat gathered under his arms, damp and uncomfortable.  


Jeff once again made use of the skeleton key to open the warehouse door, and Rab entered, head swinging back and forth like a startled owl. His wide peering eyes added to the appearance, and if he could turn his head all the way around, he would. As Jeff closed and locked the door behind them, Rab released his breath slowly, a long trembling exhalation of relief. They were in, and nothing had happened.  


“Over here,” Jeff put down his workbag. “This should be right over open floor, we won’t have to worry about landing on anything. Hand me the tools.” All business now, an urbane and thoughtful sneak. Professional. 

Rab crouched down on the dusty floor and opened the bag. Underneath a rope ladder, he found the saw and handed it to Jeff, who took it eagerly and set to work on the wood of the floor. Rab’s mouth trembled as he watched his friend work. He just couldn’t believe that by tomorrow, his life would be transformed, opened wide to possibility, and at last, free. 

Jeff glanced over his shoulder at Rab and gave a wicked grin, full of even white teeth, gleaming in the half light. Rab grinned back, crookedly and with a new slyness, avaricious. 

Whistling merrily, Jeff worked steadily to make a passage through the old wood.  


“What the blasted hell?” Jeff threw down the tool with a snarl of disgust and stood up. “There’s iron plates under here! I can’t bloody saw through that!” The tall man spun around throwing his arms in the air.

Rab’s heart sank as his mouth opened into a dismayed O. He looked at Jeff with panic in his eyes. He saw his whole bright future slipping away from him. His hands, as always, betrayed him, writhing around each other as if they belonged to someone else.  


Jeff looked stumped. His brow furrowed, he paced around the perimeter of the room. He walked slowly all the way to the back, as Rab stood and waited. He saw his friend crouch down at the hearth on the far side and tap his fingers on the stone there. Tap, tap, thinking. After a minute Jeff looked up, all the bright mischievousness back in his eyes.  


“I have an idea.”  


Rab almost laughed out loud, a muffled snort escaping through his nose, and gathered up the tools, ladder, and bag and went over to the fireplace.  


A couple hours later, they had the hearthstone removed and began sawing through the floor underneath. They both did laugh then, muffled by hands, as it was apparent that the iron plates did not extend under the area of the hearth. Jeff made short work of opening the floor wide enough for a man to pass through. He took some new tools from Rab and attached a couple of bolt rings into the floorboards around the hole, pulling at them to make sure they were securely anchored. Rab handed Jeff the rope ladder they’d constructed and Jeff attached it to the rings and threw it down to unfurl into DC Raits below. He leaned over to peer through the opening and then popped his head back up, eyes liquid in the dim light.  


“Age before beauty,” Jeff quipped, grasping the ladder and starting down. The flimsy rope ladder twisted and swung as the man lowered each foot carefully to the rung below. Rab watched anxiously while his friend struggled. Suddenly Jeff froze.  


“What’s wrong?” hissed Rab.  


“There’s someone walking by the window.” Jeff whispered back, remaining still on the swaying ladder. Both men held their breath, blood rushing painfully, as the shadowy figure strolled slowly past the large window in front of the shop. At last, when there was no shout of alarm , Jeff whispered again.  


“He’s gone by, he didn’t see me.” Rab watched him shimmy the rest of the way down the ladder and jump lightly to the floor of the jewelry store.  


“Alright, my lad, your turn.” Jeff grasped a side of the rope ladder in each hand.” I’ll hold it steady for you.”  


Rab threw the cloth sacks they would use to hold the loot through the opening, then lowered himself carefully through. His feet swung uselessly in space until the toe of one foot found the first rung. He lowered his other foot, then carefully stepped down to the next rung, and brought his hands down to grasp the first one. Once he had his footing, it was the work of moments to make his way down, with Jeff holding the ladder steady. He jumped off and looked up to see Jeff, already holding a sack, and aiming a grin at him.  


“Time to get rich, young friend.”  


Rab smiled, wiped his sweaty hands on his pants, and grabbed the other sack. He followed Jeff behind the display cases. For a full minute both men stood stock still, staring at all the wealth before them, theirs for the picking. Then they looked at each other and laughed, a bark of surprised sound, almost shocked that they’d actually done it.

Rab copied his friend and gleefully began stuffing glittering baubles in his bag. Brooches set with emeralds, rubies, and citrines. Golden bracelets gleaming in the faint light with cut diamonds. Rings boasting aquamarines, garnet, sapphires. Rab looked down and saw the moonstone ring he’d wanted. He slipped a shaking hand into the display and drew it out. The ring represented all his dreams of escape from poverty, of power, of belonging. He shoved it down into his pocket, wanting to keep his prize separate from the other loot.  


After they’d stuffed their bags full, Jeff motioned to him to sit down out of sight below the display cases. A very faint morning light was beginning to show through the front window.  


“It took longer than I’d planned, thanks to those damn iron plates,” Jeff grumbled. “But it doesn’t matter. We still have,” the flamboyant man pulled out his pocketwatch and glanced at it, “about a quarter of an hour till the private watchman goes off shift. There’s gonna be about another ten minutes until the beat cop heads this way, we’ll be long gone by then.”  


Rab’s whole body trembled with excitement. He couldn’t stop his hands from running over the sack, patting the pocket where he kept the ring, drumming his fingers against his thigh.  


Jeff laughed softly. “I knew those fidgety hands of yours would be useful.”  


Face heated, Rab clasped his hands together to keep them still.  


After a little anxious time Jeff announced, ”Time to make our getaway.” The men grabbed the full bags and crouched down out of the sightline with the window. They made their way around to the back door. Threw it open wide, triumph surging. 

“Ready?” Jefferson’s face was gleeful. He opened the door and he and Rab ran hell bent down the alleyway, both giggling madly. 

Right into a different watchman.


	6. The Scam

The watchman made a grab for Rab, but Jeff pushed him aside.

“Run, Rab, run!” The tall con man urged his friend.

Rab didn’t know what to do. He was terrified, but he didn’t want to leave his friend behind.The watchman made another grab for Rab, snatching his loot bag.   
Jeff tackled the man and they struggled. Jeff was tall but the watchman was stronger, and trained to restrain suspects. When Jeff saw Rab hesitating, he shouted at him angrily.  
“I said run away, you damn fool! Now!”

Rab ran. He ran blindly down the back alleys, tears stinging his eyes. After all their careful planning, he’d lost his only friend. He ran on through the wynds and out onto a busy main street. He heard angry voices as he ran across the street without looking, but he didn’t stop. Rab wanted to keep running until he left this nightmare behind him. He shouldn’t have left Jeff, he shouldn’t have! He kept on running until a sharp pain in his side and his ragged breaths forced him to stop.He sat down on the cement and then noticed where he was. Without thinking, he’d run back to the tenement house where he used to live. The house where everyone he cared about had abandoned him. Just like he abandoned Jeff.

Rab cradled his head in his hands and wept. He sat there like that in despair until a ragged looking man came banging through the tenement door.  
“Shoo, ya filthy buggar! Get ye ta hell!”

Rab shot the man a murderous look and stood up. He shuffled away, furious and still crying. What was he gonna do now, return to the miserable life in the alley? Stealing crumbs to survive? For a short time he’d had hope for the first time since leaving his island. He wished fervently that he was back there now, with the clean air, the seabirds calls, and the friendly sheep. Rab cried even harder thinking of all he’d lost, uncaring of who might see him weeping. What did it matter? No one would notice him anyway. He was no one and that’s all he would ever be. Why bother to do anything? It was like he was cursed.

Rab was lost in his misery and self pity when he heard a brittle laugh. The laughter was not friendly. He looked up to see a woman in a blue gown and hat to match. She noticed him all right. She was looking down on him with a curl of disgust on her lip. She might have been beautiful if not for the look of sneering contempt on her face. Something about the haughty face was familiar, as if he’d seen her in a dream.

“You want to watch where you’re walking, boy,” she snarled, and that voice was familiar, too, angry and full of hate. He hadn’t hurt her, why this extreme reaction?  
“Wandering around feeling sorry for yourself won’t help you or anyone else. You are an irresponsible brat, just like your mother. But it won’t remain that way long. Your destiny lies far from here.” With that the woman swept away and left Rab standing there so astonished that he stopped crying. 

His mother, she’d said, just like his mother. What did that hateful stranger know of his dead mother? She’d obviously mistaken him for someone else, possibly the child of a maid she’d terminated for laziness or clumsiness. The street children probably all looked the same to someone like her. She’d been right about one thing, though. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and take some responsibility in helping his friend, who’d done so much for him. Rab strolled back toward the High Street, thinking hard. He was only a street child, what could he do to help? He remembered Jeff telling him that if he looked and acted the part, That he could pull off anything. But he’d left his fancy clothes with Jeff on the night of the break in. His friend had also mentioned that the reason he was in Glasgow in the first place was because he’d traveled up from London with a keek show that was from the circus he worked for. Rab had the beginnings of a plan.

Still scheming, Rab made his way back towards the Saltmarket and the fair. He would need his costume of fine clothes, as well as the goodwill of the circus people to pull this off. He wasn’t too sure that they would welcome him. Circus folk tended to be suspicious of outsiders. What would Jeff do? Probably wing it and rely on his charm. Rab wasn’t sure he had any, but now was the time to develop some. Channeling his friend, Rab put a bit of swagger in his step. He strutted down the sidewalk like he owned it and was shocked to see several people step out of his way. He continued towards the fair, feeling more confident until he realized that he didn’t have a penny to get in. Shite! He couldn’t risk getting caught pickpocketing so he clenched his fists and stood on the corner and begged until a man tossed a penny at him without even bothering to look at him. Rab felt his face burn as he scrambled to pluck the coin from the sticky sidewalk. He’d believed just a few short days ago that he’d never have to beg again. That had been a wonderful feeling, and he swore now that someday he would be the one people were begging from.

Armed with his penny Rab stopped at the fair entrance and inquired where the circus geggy might be found. He wandered toward the left side of the park, dejected now and without the joy he’d felt the last time. What if the circus people wouldn’t help, or worse, blamed him and became angry? He saw the tent he was looking for, with the red and white striped top that the man at the entrance had described. It didn’t look open for business. An old man with oddly colored yellow hair sat in a chair at the front of the tent. He was whittling something from wood. 

“Scuse me, sir.” Rab tried to bring back his confidence. “I’d like to speak to ya about Something.”

The old man looked up, then went back to his carving. “We are not open, son. The main act has gone missing. I do not know when he’ll be back, I do not know where he went.” The old man has a strange accent, adding an extra sound to each word. I do nota know where he wenta. 

“But thats why I’m here,” Rab explained. “I know where he is, and I wanna help.”

“Is that so?” Is thata so? The old man looked interested now. He dusted a pile of wood shavings off a stool and patted it.   
“Have a seat here, boy.”

Rab sat down and the man held out a wrinkled hand. 

“I am Giuseppe, and I’m pleased to meet you. Jeff is a good friend to me. Please, tell me what has happened to him?”

Rab hesitated then. He didn’t want Giuseppe to think badly of Jeff, who’d been a good friend to him, too.

The Italian noticed Rab’s hesitation and laughed. 

“Got Himself in trouble again, I bet. That Jeff, he always in trouble. Don’t be afraid to tell Giuseppe. I can no help my friend if I do not know where he is, eh?”

Rab relaxed a bit. Of course this man was an old friend of Jeff’s.He must know what a trickster he was. Maybe he wouldn’t be blamed for Jeff’s trouble after all.   
“I met Jeff near the fair a few days ago,” Rab began. He told the entire sorry tale to Giuseppe, who listened with a knowing smile, and not once looked upset or angry. When Rab was finished with his story and trying not to cry, Giuseppe patted his arm kindly.

“Come back to the wagon, eh? We will have some food, I round up the others. Together we figure out what to do.”

The old man led Rab around the tent to a wagon set up in the back. Seated next to it was a woman with improbably blond hair, dressed in red and black, and next to her sat a handsome man in green. The woman was smoking and the man appeared to be fletching an arrow. They both looked up and smiled at Giuseppe.

“Miss Ella, Robin, I have brought a friend of Jeff’s to meet you.”

Rab waved at the pair,shuffling his feet and trying to keep his hands from excessive fluttering. 

“Hello.”

“Darling, any friend of Jeff’s is a friend of mine. Tell me, where is the handsome scoundrel hiding? A lucky Lady’s boudoir, no doubt.” She laughed, lifting a dark brow.

“Wait a minute, Ella, I want to meet him first.” The man in green offered a hand and Rab shook it. The man’s grip was strong. “My name is Robin Hood.”

When he saw Rab’s skeptical look, the man in green laughed. “It’s a stage name.” He held up the arrow. “I do an archery show. But everyone calls me that, so you can too. Haven’t used my real name in so long that I doubt I’d even remember to answer to it.”

“Nice to meet you, Robin, you too, Miss Ella.”

After they’d all found a seat, Rab on a comfortable hay bale covered with a quilt, Giuseppe brought out biscuits and set a teakettle over the cook fire. The puppeteer asked Rab if he would repeat his story to the other two performers. 

Rab did, and when he was finished Ella remarked dryly,”Well, I must say I’m not surprised in the least.” She lit another cigarette, “Jeff always gets himself into a mess, everywhere we go. If he wasn’t so damnably handsome, I’d simply leave him to rot. But I suppose we shall have to get him out somehow.” She sighed, exhaling a plume of smoke. “But, unfortunately, that is a serious crime he’s committed this time. How are we ever to convince the police to allow a circus performer off? You know very well that the law can’t abide us.”

“That’s what’s going to help us,” Rab explained. “They want you out of their town as soon as possible, right?”

“You have that correct, young man,” laughed the archer. “Most folks consider us a lot of freaks.”

“Exactly!” Rab smiled and helped himself to another biscuit. “But what if they feared one of us actually was insane? Say a young son that the poor father was trying to prevent doing something crazy? The father wasn’t actually trying to commit a crime at all, but to stop one?”

“But then you’d be the one in the nick.” Ella looked concerned and shook her pale head. “Or somewhere even worse.”

“That would be true except for one thing. A father and the father’s loving sister would never leave town without the poor boy. So they’d have to stay in the city, getting up to who knows what in the meantime, offending proper gentlemen and ladies, who’d complain constantly to the police.”

Ella and Robin looked surprised, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

Through giggles Ella said,”The little rogue is right! No wonder Jeff took up with him. He’s a born deal maker and con man.”  
Rab,who at one time would have been insulted by this,just grinned crookedly around a mouthful of biscuit.

 

Two days later,the group had a plan all hashed out,and they were ready.Rab’s hands, as always when he was nervous, kept fluttering about, and he tried clasping them together as they all walked to the police station. 

Robin noticed.”Don’t worry about the fidgeting young man.We’re not in church, and besides, it can only help add veracity to our pantomime.”

Robin and Ella were dressed in their most outrageous costumes. Not as odd as Jefferson’s usual attire, but very strange all the same. They’d all agreed that looking eccentric would help convince the authorities to rush them all out of town. Rab had on the suit of clothes Jefferson had purchased for him, but he’d buttoned it up all crookedly. Ella had on an elaborate gown, very low cut and not at all suitable for daytime,and she was smoking. Robin wore full woodland outlaw regalia, even carrying a huge bow. They definitely stood out form the other pedestrians, who gave them as wide a berth as possible.

They found the police station and Robin opened the door, bowing deeply to Ella as she swept in, Rab right behind her.

“Darlings!” Ella all but shouted. “What an absolutely dismal place.” She flicked ashes on the floor, which was newly swept.

“Indeed, it is,” Robin nodded, holding up the bow and waving it.

“Yrk!Har!” Rab agreed,flinging out an arm and knocking over an umbrella stand, sending it rolling.

The cops behind the counter stared, open mouthed. 

“Oh dear, they are rude in this city,aren’t they? Well, what can one expect so far from London? Savages.” Ella looked disgusted.

“Ack. Bonifman.” Rab said wisely, sitting on the floor and removing his shoes, throwing one at the counter and knocking over a cup of pencils. He placed the other shoe on his head, looked triumphant, and declared, “Meef.”

“Don’t worry, my boy. We shall get it all sorted,” Robin soothed.

“What do you people want?” One of the policemen finally found his voice.

Ella strode up to the counter.”Darling, we are here to collect this poor lad’s dear father, of course. You have been unfairly holding the man for a crime he did not commit.”

The cop rolled his eye.”Do ye ken the man’s name?”

“Papa!Yayayaya!” shouted Rab, spinning in circles.

Ella gave the man Jeff’s name slowly, as if the cop were not very bright.

“Ye’re a relation, aye?”

“Of course, darling. He is my dear and beloved brother.” Ella put a hand dramatically to her head. “Oh, my poor, poor brother! Jailed for a crime he didn’t commit! Such a tragedy! An utter abomination!”

Robin brandished his bow angrily. The other cops had beat feet into the back room by this time, wanting nothing to do with the chaos  
.  
“Aye, Ah kin see the resemblance,” muttered the law man. 

“Yar!Papa!”

“Mam, yer brother broke intae a jewelery shop. We cannae jis turn ‘im loose.” The cop winced as Rab began to fart unashamedly.

Robin spoke up. “That’s just it, sir. The father was desperately attempting to curb any shenanigans. You see, it was his son here who broke in. His poor overworked father usually keeps the boy locked up, but his son escaped. As you see yourself, the boy has very little sense. His father diligently tracked him down, and was attempting to return the boy to camp, when he was accosted by the watchman. The child has not enough brain to know what he is doing. An unfortunate by product of the mother’s heavy drinking as he was formed.”

Rab bent over and pointed his hind end at the counter, releasing an especially long and loud note from the butt trumpet.

“If that’s actually the case, the boy will have to be held and tried.” The cop looked dismayed by the idea. One of his eyes began to twitch.

Ella leaned over the counter and blew a lungful of smoke into the man’s face, causing a coughing fit and an acceleration of the eye spasm.

“What a shame.I suppose we will all have to remain in this dreadful place until we can free the dear boy.” She clutched her chest, “Oh, it breaks my heart! The poor unfortunate boy!I do hope you will change him regularly. He tends to have accidents, you know.”

Rab began yelling,”Woop woop! Gotta poop!” he started to crouch.

Ella brayed,”We shall just remain here whilst the boy is here. We shall keep working our act. Yes, we shall ask some of the other circus performers to move here and join us. I’m sure many will come, perhaps the entire troupe.”

Robin nodded and mimicked shooting an arrow.”I’m quite certain my entire family will come. Even my bearded aunt and her wolf. Te wolf does enjoy his whisky. Lucky that the pubs round here are dog friendly, although he does tend to howl a great deal. I’m sure the other patrons won’t mind.”

Rab stood, pulled his pants down, and crouched again, scrunching up his face. Ella blew another cloud of acrid smoke in the cop’s face.

“All right, noo! All of ya calm doon.”

Everyone froze, Ella’s brows high in question.

“All of ya wait here, Ah’ll see what ah kin do.” The beleaguered law man fled through the door toward the back of the station.

Thirty minutes later, Ella, Rab, Robin, and Jeff were headed back to the market. Jeff laughed merrily as the other three interrupted each other to tell how they’d so disturbed the cop that he’d have pardoned them for anything as long as they agreed to leave town immediately.

“Your young protege was absolutely brilliant.” Ella blew a plume of smoke through her nostrils. “You should be very proud.”

“Oh, I am, I am indeed. It’s just a shame that we were unable to acquire a single piece of jewelry.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Rab held up his hand,where a large moonstone ring, too big for his finger, gleamed on his thumb.

 

That night Rab did not return to the alley. Instead he joined his new friends at their encampment. The group sat around the fire eating a savory stew prepared by Giuseppe and laughing again at their escapades as they filled in the old man.

Jeff clapped Rab on the back, “You should have seen him, he was brilliant.”

Giuseppe shook his head,”You should all be ashamed of yourselves.” But the old man had glint in his eyes.

Rab suspected he approved of what they had done. They were like a family, taking care of each other. Rab was warm, he was full, and he was surrounded by friends.

Giuseppe stood up and began collecting the empty bowls. “It is time to begin packing up.We must leave tomorrow to begin our journey to London. The big show is coming up and we have to prepare.”

Rab broke out in goosebumps, though he wasn't cold. He’d known such happiness with Jeff and now the rest of these people, and once more, the people he cared for were leaving him. He didn’t think he could bear it again. 

“I guess I better get going, then.” He tried not to let his voice shake, but his hands, as always, gave away his distress.

“What the fiery hell are you talking about, Rab? Do you have some important unfinished business to conclude before we leave?” Jeff looked puzzled.

“We?” Rab asked, confused.

“Of course. As if I would leave behind the best partner that I’ve ever had. You’ve got talent, my lad, no denying that fact. And the circus can always use young roustabouts. I’ll speak to the boss. He’s a difficult man, a little strange, but Im sure he would welcome you. Surely, you didn’t think we were going to leave you behind?” Jeff looked affronted.

Rab couldn’t speak. He just stood there with his mouth open, stunned.

Jeff laughed, stood up and grasped Rab’s hand, shaking it firmly.  
“Welcome to the circus life.”

 

After everyone had finished stowing the gear and Rab had helped by feeding the horses, Robin brought a couple of hay bales to the fire. He and Jeff broke them apart and spread the hay, careful not to place it too close to the blaze. Giuseppe brought out some quilts and lay them over the hay. Ella supervised, as usual smoking like a dragon.

“It’s not much,” said Jeff, “but we shall have much better accommodation once we’re back in London.”

“It’s more than I’m used to, thank you.” Rab crawled gratefully under one of the quilts, he was exhausted.

Ella headed off to the wagon to turn in. Jeff and Robin stayed near the fire, passing a bottle back and forth, speaking quietly, while Giuseppe played a soft melody on a carved wooden flute. Listening to the cozy sounds, and warm under the covers by the fire, Rab’s eyes drifted shut, and he slept.

 

Rab woke in the hours of darkest night. The fire had died down to glowing embers, giving an occasional soft pop as the coals slowly cooled. The night air was chilly and damp on his face and he snuggled down into his quilts. From off in the distance floated the eerie call of an owl, a night predator on the hunt. The air still smelled of the fair - roasting meat, animal dung, cooked corn, sweet treats.

Rab needed to relieve himself, but he really didn’t want to leave his warm nest. He could hear Jeff and Robin’s quiet breathing nearby. They must be deeply asleep after polishing off the bottle of whisky. 

But the urgency of nature’s call forced him from his comfortable cocoon. He tiptoed as quietly as he was able through the dew covered grass. It tickled his bare feet as he crept carefully past the sleeping men and toward the wagon. He could go behind there and if any of the fair people were awake they’d be unlikely to see him at his private business. Rab was standing next to one of the wheels when a loud honk sounded from the dark interior of the wagon. Covering his mouth to stifle a giggle, Rab ran lightly toward another group of wagons. If he had to hear another one of those honking snores he would burst into laughter and wake everyone. Must be all that smoking that caused her to make such a racket.

He found a secluded spot and was just preparing to open his pants when he heard an angry voice.

“Give it to me!

“No!I will not. Our deal was only for me to procure the necklace, not turn it over to you. Besides, I don’t have it with me. It’s hidden in a safe place.”

Rab crouched down, curious. Slowly he crept underneath one of the wagons, praying there was no dog sleeping under there. Flattening his body to the ground in the dark, he wriggled carefully forward until he could see who was out here discussing deals in the middle of the night. The sliver of moon was behind a cloud, and the speakers had no lantern, but he could make out enough to know that it was two females, one in a pale dress that reflected the scant moonlight, the other in a darker gown, the color of which Rab could not discern.

“Oh,very well,” the one in the darker gown sounded irritated. “As long as he doesn’t have it, he won’t have its protection when the time comes. At last I’ll have that damn demon off my back. After that, I don’t really care.”

“How did you end up owing the demon in the first place?” The one in white sounded intrigued.”Why would you ever make a deal with one? And how did you get around the life price?”

“Who says I did get around it,it just wasn’t my life. As for the rest, it’s none of your concern. Now,I have one more little job for you to do, which will ensure that he meets his destiny.”

“No,” the pale woman shook her head emphatically, hold up a hand. “My debt to you is paid,and I will always regret my part in this. I will have nothing more to do with you.”  
“You useless, blind-”

At that precise moment the sliver of moon moved out from behind the clouds and cast its pallid light on the two arguing women. Rab was shocked to see that one was the blind seer, and the other was the woman who’d shouted at him about his mother on the street. He gasped and pulled back sharply. The sudden movement caused his head to impact on the bottom of the wooden wagon he was hiding under, creating a loud banging sound.

“Who’s there?” hissed the woman in the darker gown, which he could now see was blue.

 

Rab held his breath, hoping they wouldn't look under the wagon. There was silence for a long time. He started to inch backward, hoping they had gone.

"Someone's there. I'm going to look. Wait here."

It was the voice of the woman in the blue gown. Rab made his body as small as possible, trying to hide in the shadows. Suddenly the bottom of a blue gown appeared in his vision. Worse, a blue light appeared and lit up the shadows were Rab cowered.

"We'll take care of this spy!"


	7. The Circus

The Circus

There was a loud bang as someone slammed open the door of the cart Rab was hiding under, and tipsy laughter spilled out into the damp night. The light shining under the wagon blinked out and Rab heard the whispery dry sound of wings. The performers from the wagon stumbled out of their little party and headed back to their own camps, leaning on each other for support.

Rab let out a trembling breath and wriggled forward. He stuck his head out into the open air and scanned both land and sky for the strange women. Apparently they were both magical, and that could only be a bad thing for Rab. 

After finally being able to relieve himself, Rab returned to his bed and crawled in. He lay staring at the icy stars overhead, the same distant stars he’d watched from his island home. His mind was in turmoil. Who were those women? What on earth was that conversation about? The words about the necklace reminded him of the deal he’d made with the seer. Where they talking about that? And why would a powerful magical creature like that fairy want his mother’s necklace? He remembered the dream he’d had of a fairy healing him when his Nona and Nana died. He began to suspect it hadn’t been a dream at all. But what interest could these beings possibly have in a nobody from a remote island? He again wished he’d listened to his father’s warnings about magic. 

*********

Somewhere in the encampment a rooster crowed. Rab startled, he must have finally fallen asleep. The sky was beginning to lighten, shades of peach and salmon cooling to a clear blue. Shredded ribbons of white hovered near the horizon, signaling a clear day. Rab stretched and looked over to see Giuseppe already cooking eggs over the campfire. They hadn’t brought any chickens with them,so so he must have traded, or just asked for them. It seemed the fair workers were happy to share with each other.

Rab put on his shoes and went to sit next to Giuseppe. 

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Rab. Good morning, my boy. Would you hang the kettle, please. It’s already filled.”

Giuseppe glanced over to where Robin and Jeff still slept, shaking his head. 

“Useless,them. Up drinking all night,now look at them.”

“Yes,sir,” Rab said,grinning.If the old puppeteer was hoping to civilize those two,he had his work cut out for him.

“Giuseppe,can I ask you something?”

“Of course,you can. It’s the only way to learn,eh?” Giuseppe began scooping fluffy scrambled eggs onto plates.

“Do you have magical creatures where you come from?” Rab forced his hands to stay still,trying to appear as if the question was merely casual curiosity. 

“Oh, yes, we do, young Rab.Fearsome and terrifying things they are.”

“What are they like? Are they always evil?”

“They are purely evil.” Giuseppe gave a dramatic shiver and smiled at Rab.”The werewolf, he live in the mountains of my homeland. The people there lock their doors on the night of the full moon, eh? The werewolf, he transform himself on that night, and goes hunting. What was once a man, now cursed by gypsies, every full moon he change into a giant ravenous wolf, and looks to slay the unwary.”

Rab shivered in the bright sun, horrified.

“Have you seen one, Giuseppe?”

The old man crossed himself. “Thank the Lord, no. But I did once see the Drago Taranta when I was a young boy.”

“What is that?” Rab leaned forward,

But Jeff awoke just then and interrupted. 

“A beautiful morning to all. I hope someone has the tea ready, I’m parched as a desert.” Jeff rolled over and began shaking Robin.

“Wake up you drunken lout, we’ve breakfast to eat and work to do.”

Robin grumbled, but got up and stumbled toward the campfire, where he grabbed a couple of mugs for tea. 

Jeff stood up, yawned dramatically,and walked over to sit next to Rab. 

“Good morning to you, too, young partner. Did you have a restful sleep?”

“I did, thank you.” Rab wanted to tell Jeff about what he’d seen, but he wasn’t ready to discuss it in front of the others yet. It was simply too strange. He was also disturbed by what the puppeteer told him, as it seemed to imply that all magic was dangerous. Rab didn’t want to endanger any of his friends so he hesitated to involve them.

After breakfast, they all pitched in to load up the camp. It was time to go. Giuseppe clambered up to the wagon seat behind the horses, and Robin swung himself up to sit next to the old man. Ella remained inside the cart, apparently intending to sleep the journey away. Rab and Jeff circled around to the back, arranged themselves on an overhanging platform of the wagon, their legs dangling, feet swinging in the air. The wagon jerked to a roll, and they were on their way.

 

By afternoon, Rab wasn’t feeling very well. He was used to the rolling liquid swells of the ocean, not a bone jarring, bumpy ride in a wooden wagon on rutted roads. His head felt like someone was driving a spike through it, and his lower back was spasming in protest. He was also, as always, hungry, and he needed to piss. He felt miserable.

Jeff remarked,”You look a bit pained, Rab. I think it’s time we pulled over and stretched our legs.” 

Jeff knocked on the door in the back of the wagon, where smoke was issuing through a crack.

“Ella! Would you please inform Giuseppe and Robin that it is time for lunch?”

The door opened a crack and a cloud of smoke billowed out. 

“Of course, darling. I could use a breath of fresh air myself.”

Jeff and Rab laughed.

“What? It gets stuffy in here.” The door shut and a few minutes later the wagon slowed and came to a stop.

Rab jumped off, stretched, and hurried to find a clump of bushes beside the dirt track. Once finished, he returned to the wagon to help set up for lunch. It was a welcome novelty to have three meals a day after such a long stretch of scrambling for every crumb. He was more grateful to Jeff than the man would ever know.

Sitting down to join in the meal with the others, Rab raised his face to the sunshine, enjoying the warmth. Then he noticed, far overhead, a single white bird, circling above them. He shivered.

 

By Tuesday, Rab and Jeff sat in the front of the wagon, Jeff taking his turn at the reins. Thankfully, the road they’d been traveling for the past two days was smooth and well maintained, and Rab was feeling much better. He also hadn’t spotted the white bird again. 

 

“Getting nervous?” Jeff looked sideways at Rab and grinned. “About meeting the big boss, I mean?”

“A little. What’s he like?”

Jeff put on a serious face. “I’ve often heard him referred to as quite mad, and he is odd, I have to agree. Not dangerous, you understand, merely a bit on the eccentric side. And a tricky one to be sure. Watch your step around him. If he likes you, you’ll do just fine.”

Rab bit his lip. What if the ringmaster didn’t like him? What if he refused to let Rab stay with Jeff? He’d be all alone in a strange city, even worse off than he’d been before.

“Don’t worry, young Rab, as long as we’re friends, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Jeff turned to look at him. “You have my solemn promise.”

Rab nodded, unable to speak since his throat seemed to be closing up. He blinked his eyes rapidly. Rab was going to do his best not to let Jeff down, he would find a way to impress this boss somehow.

 

The woods gave way to scattered houses, then to villages, and the road began to climb subtly up, passing through through the crowded and dirty suburbs of the city of London. It wasn’t that much different to Glasgow as far as Rab could tell. Maybe all large cities were similar.

When the wagon arrived on a busy street in town, Robin, Ella, and Giuseppe climbed off and gathered up their things.

“Oh, I absolutely can not wait to get this vile road dirt off.” Ella turned and waved at Rab and Jeff.” See you at work, darlings!”

Rab watched as his three new friends disappeared into the crowds.

Jeff smacked the horses with the leather strap, pulling the wagon back out to the center of the street.

“Ready to meet the big boss,Rab?”

“What? Now? Aren’t we going to your flat to clean up first?” Rab tried to smooth his shaggy hair and brush the dust from his clothes, but it was hopeless.

“No time like the present.”

Jeff turned down another, less crowded side street. There were trees planted in small openings in the sidewalk. He pulled the wagon over and tied up. 

“Follow me.” He walked up to stand in front of a townhouse and Rab followed. 

Rab stared at the ornate building. “Which flat is his?”

“He doesn’t have a flat. The boss owns this entire house. Nice, isn’t it? Come on.”

Jeff opened the front door with a key and Rab thought that he must be very good friends with the ringmaster.

They went through the entry hall into a receiving parlor, which was, to Rab’s untrained eye, decorated in an elegant, though somewhat unusual, style. Every surface was covered with objects. The owner was a collector of all sorts of oddities. On the walls were mounted heads of exotic animals that Rab couldn’t identify, and portraits of circus performers doing death defying stunts in outrageous costumes. Furniture was crammed into every corner of the room,framed from behind by shelves containing leather bound books, skeletons of animals, framed insects, and illustrations of strange plants and fungi. On a low table in front of a couch, various crystals and glittering stones were arranged.

“Have a seat and wait here, young Rab. I shall fetch the big man.” Jeff winked. “We’re very old friends, and I’ll put in a good word for you.” The tall man swept out of the room, leaving Rab alone.

Rab began to pace, his eyes darting around the room. He repeatedly smoothed his shirt and hair. Walked a circuit around the room and sat back down, hands gripped together in his lap and back straight.

Jeff bustled back into the room, carrying a tray laden with tea,fruit, cheese, and a crusty loaf of bread, sliced and placed next to a creamy pat of butter.

“Is the boss on his way?” Rab swallowed and fisted his hands until his knuckles were white. 

Jeff set down the tray on a small unoccupied area of the table, spreading his arms dramatically.

“The boss is here!”

Rab’s eyes widened, then squinted in confusion. One of his hands floated up, his palm turned up in a questioning gesture. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, my dear talented partner, that you see before you the great ringmaster, the big boss, the lord of the circus!”

Rab gaped at the grinning man and after a minute, they both began to laugh, Rab almost lightheaded in relief.

 

The next day found Jeff showing Rab around the large building the circus was housed in. Unlike the older circuses, which were performed in a simple roped off ring outdoors, the Asterson Circus was permanently housed in the Asterson Amphitheater. From the entrance they went through an ornately decorated lobby and into the amphitheater itself. The room was gargantuan to Rab’s eye, stretching upwards three floors at least. Around a circular floor area stadium seating was arranged. There was a stage with heavy velvet curtains, now closed, at the far end. An orchestra pit was located directly in front of the stage. Three levels of seating rose above the stands on the left and right walls, fluted columns supporting each level. Looking up, Rab saw that a huge glittering chandelier hung from a circular recess in the center of the ceiling, tiers of gleaming crystals echoing the tiers of seating around the room. 

A low wall surrounded the entire circular floor, protecting the patrons from dirt and dust landing on their clothing. Everywhere the woodwork was carved into intricate shapes. It was by far the largest and most impressive room Rab had seen in his seventeen years. 

“The performers will arrive soon to begin practicing. Being a performer here is hard, dangerous work, and my people have discipline and skill. They need constant training to perfect their unique talents.”

Jeff laid a hand on Rab’s shoulder and gestured to the ring. 

“It’s often tedious, and not as glamorous as many suppose. Until the lights come up and the show begins. Then all the work is worthwhile.”

Rab wondered to himself what he could possibly have to contribute. He certainly didn’t have any special talents or skills. Well, other than stealing.

A young man entered the room from a side door Rab hadn’t noticed before. He looked at Jeff and Rab and scowled. He was smoking a cigarette.

“That’s Augie. He’s what we call a comic tramp, a clown. We have a few of them.” Jeff’s tone was dismissive.

“Augie!” Jeff called out. “Did you put up all those posters I asked you to? I hope you actually got the job done completely and correctly this time.”

Muttering, Augie dropped his cigarette and crushed it with a boot. He turned and left without acknowledging Jeff.

 

“Have to be on him all the time. Lazy. All he cares about is having a good time. He wants to be promoted, but he’s irresponsible and can’t be trusted to do what he’s supposed to. Best to stay away from him.”

Rab gave Jeff a surprised look, and Jeff laughed. 

“Circus folk may not be the most moral people around, Rab, but we do have a code. We’re a family, and we take care of each other. He doesn’t get that. We’ll take care of you too, for as long as you choose to remain in this family. There are one or two here, who shouldn’t be, but we tolerate them for the sake of the show. Trust me when I say, you’re better off to leave them be.”

“Jeff, you’re back!” A dark haired with painted red lips was leading in a white horse. She was followed by a blond, blue eyed man leading a tall black horse. The woman dropped the reins and ran over to Jeff, hugging him with enthusiasm.

“I was starting to worry you’d never come back. So happy you’re here, you have no idea. The things that have been going on. Oh! Who is this handsome man?”

Jeff seemed bemused by the woman’s out rush of greeting, gossip, and question. 

“Mary, meet my new partner, Rab. Rab, meet Mary, our beautiful equestrienne.”

Rab bowed to her as he’d seen Jeff do, and the petite woman clapped her hands, delighted.

“Wonderful to meet such a charming gentleman. Welcome to our family. David, come here and meet the new recruit!”

The handsome man left the horses and strode over to put an arm around the woman’s waist. 

“Rab, this is David, Mary’s husband and trick rider extraordinairre.” Jeff gestured at the man, who resembled a hero in a story book.

David thrust out a hand , grasping Rab’s and giving it a firm shake. 

“Pleased to have you with us, young man. Mary, we need to get to practicing. You still haven’t mastered the new trick.”

“You start without me. I need to tell Jeff about what’s been going on while he was gone.”

“The man just got back, can’t it wait?” 

“No, David, it’s too important.” Mary looked determined.

“I promise you, Jeff, this isn’t about idle gossip. You need to know what Mia has been doing while you were gone.”

David looked exasperated, threw his hands in the air, and mouthed, “Sorry” at Jeff before walking back toward his horse.

“It’s all right, Mary. I know you wouldn’t trouble me if it weren’t important.”

The woman nodded her thanks, and glanced over at Rab.

“Rab, I’m going to speak to Mary in the office privately for a minute. Would you mind keeping David company while we have a chat?”

Rab said that was fine. He wandered over to the far side of the amphitheater where David was stroking the muscular neck of the big black horse.

“Hello Rab. Would you like to see me do a few tricks with Hercules, here?”

“I sure would,” Rab said. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful horse.”

“He is a beauty. And smart, too.” David was preparing to mount the horse when someone walked out onto the floor.

“David! Is Jeff back?” The girl speaking had long dark hair that curled to her waist and shone in the light. Though she wore an annoyed expression, her face was exquisite, her lips full and pink, her eyes a sparkling blue. Rab’s mouth went dry and he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them still. He suddenly felt tongue tied, stupid, and a little dizzy.

The girl flounced up to David, hands on her shapely hips.

“Well, is he?”

“Yeah, he is. But he’s busy just now, in his office.”

“Oh, I just bet he is. Getting an earful of lies from Mary, no doubt.” The girl tossed her hair. “I’ll have something to say about that.”

She turned and strode off toward the office, and Rab couldn’t help but watch the sway of her body as she walked.

“Always stay out of women’s business, Rab, they’ll eat you alive.” David swung up onto the back of the black stallion and began cantering around the ring, warming the big horse up.

Rab wasn’t paying attention to the horse, though. He was dying to find out the girl’s name, and wondered if she was with someone. What was such a beautiful girl doing here? Was she a performer? How old was she? He thought that she might be a bit older than him, but not by much.

Loud voices suddenly erupted from Jeff’s office. Rab couldn’t understand what they were shouting but it was obviously the two women, both very angry. After a couple more minutes of argument, the door slammed open and the dark haired girl stomped out, head high, long hair flying behind her. She passed Rab and kept going as he held his breath. She was incredible.

Mary came out next, face flushed, and tears in her brown eyes. She swiped at her face and walked over to where Rab stood. She waited next to him in silence, and they watched as David practiced standing upright on the horse, balancing effortlessly, arms held out to the side as the horse trotted around the ring.

Finally, Mary said,”He’s very good, isn’t he?” 

“He sure is. Amazing.” What Rab really wanted to talk about was the dark haired girl, but he felt awkward bringing up the subject when Mary was so obviously distressed. They went back to watching in silence. After a few more minutes Rab asked a question.

“Is everything all right? You seem upset.”

Mary tried to smile, but her mouth trembled. 

“Everything is fine, just a disagreement with Mia. Nothing to worry about.”

It didn’t look like nothing to Rab, but he didn’t say anything else. And now he had the girl’s name, Mia. He had a million questions about her, but thought he’d better wait and ask Jeff.

Mary swiped at her eyes again.

“Excuse me, Rab, I need to go take care of my horse. It was very nice to meet you. I hope you’ll be very happy here.”

The small woman hurried over to her horse, burying her face in its long mane.

Rab walked over to the open entrance of Jeff’s office and poked his head inside.

“Jeff?”

“Oh, Rab, come on in. Just got back and already having to deal with a mess.” Jeff leaned back in his chair and put his booted feet up on the desk. He was smiling.

“Is something wrong?”

“Just the usual petty squabbles among performers. Everybody wants to be the star. Giant egos, all of them.”

Rab had to ask. “Who was that long haired girl who was arguing with Mary?”

Jeff was already distracted, going through the paperwork that had sat ignored while he was away promoting the circus in Glasgow. 

“That’s Mia. She’s an acrobat and wire walker. A fantastic performer, and a beautiful girl. Unfortunately, nothing but trouble, that girl. She’s a bad one, I'm afraid. You stay away from her, Rab. Her and Augie, thick as thieves, and twice as sneaky. Ah, here it is.” Jeff pulled out a large envelope from a drawer.

“Rab,I’ve got an important job for you to do.” Jeff held the envelope and walked over to a safe on a battered old table across from the desk. “I need this money to get to our landlord today.” He spun the dial of the safe.

“It was supposed to be paid yesterday, but of course with me not being here, no one bothered to do it. Old Foxy is just looking for an excuse to shut us down, and I’m not going to give him one. I’ll draw you a map, his place is easy to find.”

Jeff began filling the envelope with bills from the safe. “Thank God we’ve got it all this month, it was a close thing. You’re my partner and one of the very few I can trust with this, so it will now be part of your responsibilities to deliver it every month.”

Rab shivered. To have Jeff’s trust in such a thing meant everything to him.

“I’ll make sure he gets it, I promise.”

Jeff handed him the envelope and Rab stuffed it up his shirt, tucking the garment in over the packet to conceal it. 

“I’m going to be as useful as I can.”

“I know you will, you’re my partner, aren’t you?” Jeff smiled his blinding smile and Rab left his office, envelope secure and map in hand.

As he walked around the ring to where David and Mary were doing handstands on the wide backs of their horses, Rab didn’t notice the dark haired girl, Mia, standing just outside Jeff’s office, studying him with a bright speculative gaze.

Rab exited the building and turned right. London was a busy city, and he held his arm across his midsection, worried about thieves and pickpockets. He thought Jeff had been smart to choose a small and poor looking boy to deliver the money, he was all but invisible to most people. Still, he kept a wary eye out as he traveled the three blocks to turn in the street where the landlord kept his residence. After four more blocks, he stopped in front of a townhouse to check the address. Not quite. Two more houses further he found it. The house was an impressive structure, much grander than Jeff’s. Intimidated, Rab climbed the steps to the large front door, which featured a brass knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, holding a ring in its mouth. Rab lifted the heavy ring and brought it down sharply. He did this a couple of times, producing a loud thud to echo inside the home. They must surely have heard that. Sure enough, Rab could hear footsteps approaching the door. He patted down his unruly hair and retrieved the envelope from under his shirt.

The door swung open silently to reveal an extremely tall servant with a shiny bald head and wide shoulders. 

“May I help you?” The man’s face said that he was in some doubt of this.

“I’m here to see Mr. Fox, please. I have a message From Mr. Jeff Asterson of the circus.”

“Wait here.” The servant shut the door in Rab’s face.

Well, people seemed to be quite rude in London, or maybe that was just the way servants here were instructed to respond to visitors, by leaving them standing on the stoop alone.

Rab heard footsteps approaching once more and again the heavy door swung open. An older man stood there, less imposing than the servant, yet more intimidating. He had that superior and self confident look on his face that always set Rab’s teeth on edge. That look of a man with all the power.

“What has Jeff sent his urchin to me for?” The man wondered, his tone mocking. “If it’s to beg for an extension on the rent, tell him to forget it. I’m more than happy to evict the lot of those charlatans and street vermin.”

The man guffawed and Rab felt his face heat. He hated more than anything to be belittled. 

“He didn’t tell me to ask for anything. And I don’t beg. I have your rent. Here.” Rab practically threw the envelope at the man, who caught it neatly.

“You can tell your low class employer that when the lease runs out, I’ll be raising the rent, as I mentioned to him already. See how he does with that!” Laughing again, the obnoxious Fox turned without saying farewell and Rab once again found a door shut in his face.

Fuming, Rab stomped down the steps and began the walk back to the amphitheater. He was so tired of being pushed around by people with power and status, while he seemed destined to never have either. 

When Rab got back, he went immediately to Jeff’s office to inform him that the rent had been safely delivered, but the office was empty. Mary and David had apparently finished their practice and left also. There were some tumblers practicing acrobatics, but no sign of Mia, he noted with disappointment. Then he noticed Ella over to the side with a young dog, talking to it quietly. Relieved to see someone he knew, he hurried over to join her.

 

One of the velvet curtains twitched and a girl’s blond head peeked out.

“He’s back Mia.”

“Thanks, Ashley. How do I look?” Mia wore a tight performance outfit, one worn for shows, not usually for practice. It glittered under the lights.

“You look beautiful, but I cant see why you would want to impress him. He doesn’t look like anything to me. Short and skinny, and that shaggy hair. Why him?” Ashley wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“Never mind, you. I have my reasons. I’m going up top. If he seems about to leave, stop him.” Mia strode to the ladders that led to a wire high above.

 

Ella was laughing at Rab’s impression of the haughty Mr. Fox. He’d been telling her what a horse’s behind he thought the man was.

“Yes, the man is an absolute arse. No redeeming features whatsoever. The threat to raise the rent is worrisome, however. It certainly explained Jeff’s ridiculous exploits in Glasgow. The poor man would be heartbroken if he had to let anyone go, he feels responsible for all of us, and would do whatever it takes to ensure we all stay together.” Ella looked a bit sad.

“Even Augie?” Rab looked at Ella with a grin, hoping to cheer her up.

“Well, maybe not that useless lump,” Ella laughed, just as Rab had hoped.

“What about that acrobat girl, Mia? Jeff doesn’t seem to like her too much.”

“Oh darling, that girl. What can I say, she does bring in the customers. A real piece of work, though, she is. I stay as far from that trouble as I can, and if you have any brains, you’ll do the same.”

“But, why-” Rab saw movement from the corner of his eye and looked up, gasped.

“Speak of the devil,” he heard Ella sigh.

The girl, Mia, appeared standing on a platform high above the stage. She wore a glittering white outfit that showcased her strong body, her rich hair cascading down her back in waves. As Rab stared, she took a step out onto a wire attached to the platform and began walking slowly across it. When she got to the midpoint of the wire she stopped, Rab could swear the beautiful girl was looking right at him, but knew it was only wishful thinking. 

His heart felt like it was lodged in his throat with fear and wonder. The vision in white lifted one leg behind her and bent backwards, grasping the foot as she balanced on the wire on one leg. Then she slowly brought the leg to the front, pointing a toe straight out.

Applause broke out from the acrobats who’d been practicing on the floor. They all stood still now, watching Mia. Rab couldn’t have torn himself away if the room was on fire. 

 

Mia placed the extended toe on the wire in front of her, and with extraordinary strength and control,slid it forward inch by inch until she was in a split on the high wire, hands in the air above her, hair flowing like a dark waterfall down her back. Then, arching her back, breasts thrust out, she brought her legs together, and swung them both to the front, brought her hands down to the wire behind her, flipping over and landing on her feet. 

Again applause rang out. Rab didn’t clap, he was struck dumb, mesmerized. Not only had he never seen a woman perform such amazing stunts of strength and flexibility, he’d never seen a woman in so little clothing.

The girl again seemed to look right at him, then danced lightly across the wire, leaped onto the far platform and disappeared.

Rab’s hair had stood on end and goosebumps ran up and down his arms. His heart seemed to have stopped beating and he couldn’t get a deep breath. He wondered if he would faint. It was nauseating and thrilling at the same time.

When the girl’s dark head appeared through the velvet curtains on the stage, she looked at Rab and curled a finger.

Rab stupidly turned his head back and forth to see who she was gesturing to, but Ella had left without him noticing. He was the only one there. He looked back at the girl and she nodded, made the same beckoning gesture.

Helpless, Rab stood up and began to walk toward her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rab falls in love next chap

**Author's Note:**

> I really want constructive criticism on the story and writing! Please please leave comments! Please leave kudos if you enjoyed! Going to try to update every Friday.


End file.
